#and with that said i feel a mania coming in <3

[snapscube]

so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.

my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.

obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.

of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.

and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!

sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.

this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.

also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.

[hazelfoureyes]

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

Alastor demands you tell him what you’d consider a nice date, which makes a surprisingly lovely time in the library. Dancing leads to… not dancing and a minor rearranging of your guts. And finally, you try to shame Alastor out of Mania and Alastor finds himself having to explain, well, Alastor.

「warnings/promises: Smut, guts➡️rearranged, kinda dub➡️con cuz Alastor still doesn’t listen, but funnily enough neither do you?, lots of interrupting each other, Luci’s hat, you’re down so fucking bad lmao」

🎶 minors DNI 🎵

Angel was live blogging everything you said when you recounted what happened to you after returning to the hotel.

“Wait there’s a character limit, I gotta make a new post.” He was wiping actual tears from his eyes, “Fuck this is funny.”

“Hmmph,” Alastor offered a small noise from his end of the sofa. Neither of you had mentioned or even referenced the sex. There was a strange feeling between you that it didn’t happen so it didn’t need a discussion. But also that it had absolutely happened, as Alastor’s hands found renewed vigor in their search for you when in public and private and your body seemed to respond in kind. You’d still occasionally move his hand off of you, but there was a pulse of electricity every time. When his hand would come to rest on your upper thigh while seated beside each other in the common areas, you let it linger. What harm was it? Heaven wasn’t fucking watching.

Everything aside, the sex had done nothing to dispel his interest. Perhaps you’d only made it worse, for both of you. 

By midweek you found the sling useless, happily tossing it aside and beginning gentle stretches. That was more progress than you'd made in your main task. 

Every morning you woke up beside Alastor, every day you had him in your orbit, every night you fell asleep feet from him.

Had Mania not taken him he would be a prime candidate for showing the virtue of true love. He was already fucking there, a captive audience. But that wasn’t how it worked. Cupid-induced manic love could never be true. Nothing you created was true, really. But atleast with Eros or Agape you could still have added the notion of  true love to the mix. His heart would still be receptive and open to the idea. The way he was now, you could proselytize until you were blue in the face and he’d still think manic love was true love. 

An unintended consequence of living with Alastor was discovering you both had quite a bit in common, as much as that information irked you. He enjoyed horror movies such as ‘Dracula’, you enjoyed horror movies as well, just newer ones. Ones in color. He could cook quite well, something you enjoyed to do. And his taste in music was actually lovely. You had assumed he listened to screams on a 7 hour loop.

Actually, upon closer inspection, Alastor was nothing like you had initially assumed. While he had shown you he was capable of terrifying feats of strength and power, he was also remarkably gentle. Every time you descended the stairs his hand was barely felt as it hovered at your elbow ready to save you. 

Early in the week you fell asleep watching the group play a board game, somehow redemption related, and awoke with his coat laid over your body. When you thanked him, he just smiled and continued enjoying watching Niffty hide the play money.

You were finding yourself more and more wishing the arrow had never fallen. If you’d just met him as you fell, perhaps you would be staring into that portal home. There were definitely worse options around. Even his imposing height had begun to…not bother you, perhaps was the best way to say it.

Or his large hands. There was a safety in the way they rested on your back. Speaking of…

Your throat ran dry when he leaned into you, one of those hands sliding across your thigh,  and asked against your ear, “Ready to go?”

He had to have seen you licking your lips to unstick your teeth. With a nod, he stood and offered a hand to you. 

You both were already out of the elevator and walking to your room when he slowed, coming to stop just in front of you. 

His room, fucking hell. 

“You know, I was thinking,” he wasn’t looking as he spoke to you, which was odd given how often he stared at you. “If you’re going to be here with me from now on-“

You opened your mouth to argue but he put his hand up, “I’d like to know the things you enjoy doing with your romantic interests.” His smile was almost pure, you could tell he was genuinely asking.

“Well I don’t have any so, why would you care?”

“No things you enjoy?”

“No romantic interests.”

His head lolled to the side, “Sometimes I think you say things just to bother me.”

You did.

“I do.”

You thought if you kept being rude maybe you could keep him at an arm’s length. Not get too attached. You’d been kind to people you didn’t like before and eventually you started to like them. This was that. But opposite.

He stared down at you, taking a step closer. You took one back. That smile shifted from pure to sinister, his eyes half lidded. You could almost see the thoughts playing on his face.

“Alastor-,” your back hit the elevator doors. The pounding of your heart when he brought his face to yours drowned out the sounds of the button being pressed. When the doors opened you fell backward with a yelp, but a strong arm caught you by the waist.

“You have twelve floors.” His hand hit the first floor button, “You can share with me your idea of a quality date. Or I can show everyone,” that clawed hand came to your neck, sliding down the evidence of your pounding heart, “how pretty you scream.”

As soon as the doors closed you were pressed against the elevator wall, right leg pulled up and around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare.” You had meant it to sound strong but instead it was half whispered with a shaky voice.

He popped a button off your blouse, “Maybe!” Warm mouth now on your neck, his tongue ran over your pulse, “I wonder if everyone is still in the lobby.”

Over his shoulder you watched the numbers counting down. The hand that cut off the button slid down to your bottoms, slipping under the waistband.

On the 3rd floor the elevator stopped. When the doors opened a demon you didn’t recognize was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open. He didn’t make a move to enter, Alastor looking over his shoulder and sharing what you could only assume was a death glare. The flickering lights were a giveaway to his anger.

His fingers dipped down and cupped your sex, hot palm pressing into your folds. 

The doors closed again and you watched the second floor light up. A finger bent and pressed into you.

A nibble at your ear, “You know I’ll win, regardless.”

He was right. Which was the smaller defeat? Humiliation or just telling the bastard your idea of a nice time?

“Books. Drinks.” You squeaked, the first floor lamp now aglow. His hand pulled away just as the doors opened. 

Expecting him to gloat you were surprised he just hit the 10th floor button. The library. 

He opened the door for you. The library’s main area had two reading chairs bookending a long antique sofa. You took the chair furthest from the door, hearing the door lock.

With a snap, the entire bar with Husk included seemed to fall three inches out of thin air.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Husk looked around, already annoyed, “You coulda just fucking asked for drinks to bring with you. You know cups are portable, right?”

It was nice, actually. Husk poured, you both read. There was an unnecessary fireplace crackling behind you. Cozy. And it got cozier and warmer the more you drank. Your shields softened as the glasses emptied. 

Your book was good, but as you felt the alcohol hit you were reminded of the last time you’d gotten a little past tipsy. Sneakily, but not at all, your eyes wandered over to Alastor.

His legs were crossed, but you could remember looking down and seeing them spread open beneath you. Open. Did many people see him like you had? Had his talk about a disinterest in sex actually been a trick to intrigue you? It hadn’t worked, you genuinely didn’t care what his preferences were. If anything it made you less likely to make a pass.

Your eyes wandered down his slender neck to his wide shoulders. Less than a week ago your arms were resting there. Further down, you remembered that soft bit of fur at the base of his cock, a small trail from his belly button. 

Husk watched your face turn pink, “You good?” Your head whipped around, looking confused. “You’re getting red.”

Oh. I was just thinking about my pussy drowning in Alastor’s cum.

No, obviously not!

Alastor’s eyes left his book and found yours. They were so red; his eyes, not your cheeks. No one in heaven had such wicked an appearance. When you didn’t reply, busy staring back at Alastor, Husk groaned, “Aah fuck.”

“What are you reading?” You asked, clearly able to see the book title from where you sat. 

Alastor held it up, “Oliver Twist.”

“Never read it.”

You had read it.

Setting your book down, you tried to walk as straight as a line as you could to him. You took the book from his hands and sat down on his lap, back against his chest, before picking it up again. “What page are we on?”

“You can leave, Husker.” Alastor didn’t even look at Husk when he said it, eyes still on your face.

When the door closed and Alastor could lock it with a snap, he uncrossed his legs. “Would you like to start over dear? From the beginning.”

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Can we?” You leaned your head onto his shoulder. When had he become so comfortable…?

“We can.” The book was set aside, his left hand pulling your chin up, “I think we skipped a few chapters before.”

You opened your mouth, “I don’t like kissing.” 

“You will.” 

The front part of your brain dissolved, you were sure of it. Your decision making abilities were entirely eradicated as his lips pressed into yours. Fuck, maybe even your basic motor skills had been fried, his tongue swiping across your mouth before you just—opened. Your hips ground down into his lap, and you felt his smile widen against your lips.

“Stop smiling. I just like warm bodies.” You reached for the book and opened it to the first page, “and you’re so fucking warm.”

He began to read, but between the rumble of his chest, his voice in your ear, and the heat of his body, you fell asleep.

No matter. Alastor just hummed. With a summoning of his shadow you both sank into your shared bed, where he continued reading with you against his chest.

You dreamt about home. About red eyes and warmth.

Was it so bad, being in hell? Sure you had a fucking deer demon as guard dog but it seemed his mania was … not so terrible. Honestly he seemed relatively normal now. He would wander off for significant lengths of time, even leaving in the mornings while you were still lazing about. A kiss to your hand was the indicator he would be popping off somewhere.

Alastor still wouldn’t let Lucifer alone with you, but otherwise everything was okay. You’d even come to enjoy certain aspects of his possessiveness. That ever present hand, for example. Even when it wasn’t on you, you could still almost feel it. It had become second nature now.

The week was actually peaceful. Your pain was entirely gone, you could move about freely. Despite that Alastor still would press up behind you and offer to help dress you. An offer you declined, but every time he asked you paused longer and longer before saying no.

Alastor was happy to find you in the library toward the end of the week, you having wandered off when he was called away. He summoned a confused but pissed off Husk again, who was midway through making someone else’s drink. He set it aside, pouring Alastor his whiskey. You decided against drinking, you knew you always made poor decisions. Like sleeping. 

Delighted by the impressive collection you found a non-fiction and settled into the same large chair.

“Reading is a virtue.” He said to himself yet out-loud, taking a seat and setting the radio on from across the room. Etta James. ‘Somethings got a hold of me.’

“A little past your time, isn’t it?” You smiled, you liked songs about love. Not because of who you were, you just liked the idea of someone so enamored they have to make art.

He laughed, “Nosey little bird, have you been asking about me?”

Well shit. You had forgotten to play dumb. The past couple weeks you had casually inquired about Alastor from the other staff members. A modest collection of facts to help you better understand the man. A quick recovery. “Know your enemy!” 

He cackled, “Sun Tzu! What does Cupid need ‘The Art of War’ for?!”

What, did he expect you to only read romance novels and Roman mythos? “You can’t make a shadow without light. In fact,” you put the book down, “The Greeks thought Cupid was a child of War and Beauty.”

Okay well, Greek mythos is a little different than their Roman counterpart’s. So. There.

Alastor watched you leaning over the arm of the chair, no sign of pain as you did so. Your injury must have mended well. “Do you have parents?” He asked, genuinely wondering how your kind were created. 

“No, we're just… made. And then sent off on assignments.”

“You must be terribly busy, just one person for all of earth.” If Alastor could pull some limbs and find out more from anyone but you, he would, but unfortunately no one but Vaggie would know anything about you and he had a feeling her time in heaven was never spent thinking about love. 

“Oh, actually not so much! When I’m with humans I can travel around without worrying about the concept of time at all. But it takes a toll.” Or so you were told. There were never two Cupids at one time so you couldn’t really ask your predecessors. Alastor’s brows rose, unsure how exactly a Cupid could be taxed if they didn’t feel pain and couldn’t be hurt. “Every trip to Earth weakens us. Until our bodies just, I guess, give out.” A smile crept across your face, unsure what expression you were supposed to be making.

“Is it just Earth? Or,” he lowered the radio volume with just a glance, “Every time you leave heaven?” It would take a great effort to not notice the weight suddenly blanketing the library. Silence was heavy with what he was really asking you. Would remaining here kill you?

It was a great question. Wow he’s really good at this. It almost seemed like he gave a shit. No one had ever asked you about your creation, about your work. It was nice. Even from him. Maybe especially from him.

You had never been to hell, so you couldn’t be sure, but, “I think it’s a human-world time-thing. But I guess we’ll find out!” Another misplaced smile before you awkwardly leaned back and picked up the book.

While you hadn’t noticed the slip up you had made, Alastor had. “I suppose we will.” 

You would find out, because you wouldn’t be returning to heaven. He was glad you, even if unconsciously, understood that. And perhaps you could live forever if you never returned to earth.

When the song ended, you offered one of your own. 

Alastor was pleasantly surprised to hear you request Nat King Cole’s ‘It’s almost like being in love’.

Standing, he offered you his hand for a dance. “Ugh I hate this cheesy shit.” You said it but stood anyway, putting your hands in his.

Alastor laughed, swaying side to side, “Not a fan of romance? Has Cupid never been in love?”

Those were two seperate things. How could you explain? “Drug dealers number one rule. Never get high off your own supply. That would be—.”

Lonely. Pathetic.

“A bad idea.” His cheek rested on your head. It was a shockingly tender act. “Can you understand? Why would I want something I made. What’s special about that?” 

“And what of true love? It isn’t made by you, yes?” Asked into your hair.

“Yeah but when will I ever find the time to make a connection worthwhile. Winners and Angels are gluttons for choice, I am obviously built for a fun time not a long time.” Which you were…fine with. Yeah. I mean, what choice did you have? “And I don’t want to force it…so…” you trailed off. The rest didn’t matter.

He nodded, suppressing another laugh.  “I see. Well, allow me to give you something you inspired, how about that? Not made. Would you say no, my muse?”

Inspired? Like a song? “Ha, what have I inspired in you, heathen.”

Alastor stopped dancing, his hand pulling your face up for a kiss which took you by surprise.

“Seriousl-,” Husk mercifully disappeared in a flash of neon green.

You couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, much like many of the moments you surrendered to Alastor. It was so fast and he was so strong, his hands large and confident in how they moved you. Before you knew it you were bent over the sofa’s arm getting fucked so hard your leg was shaking and your stomach nauseous.

This was much better than songs or art or whatever you inspired in others. You were gasping with every breath, the action somehow heightening the sensations. The little huffs and groans your body was pulling from him had your heart racing.

His cock was smashing your womb into your guts, the entire organ suddenly feeling like a new pleasure spot. Every jolt to your cervix made a novel kind of bliss pool in your stomach. 

You cried, head empty as he completely left your heat before bottoming out again, “Stop, Alastor. Stop.” A strained moan, hands gripping the wooden sofa arm, “stop, stop, fuuuuck.”

He was pulling out too far and too fast, hitting back too hard and too deep. Your cunt felt swollen around him, your entrance so soft and wet he didn’t need precision to sink back in.

“Does it hurt?” He said quickly on the down beat of his thrust.

“Nngh no.”

“Theeen, no.”

Alastor pulled you up by your chin, back bending as he titled your mouth to his. Despite your mouth hanging open with your tongue out as salacious as you’d ever been,  you told him, “I really don’t kiss during sex.” 

The look in his downcast eyes sent a shiver along your spine, a power there you couldn’t push against, “You do now, my dear.”

When in hell, you supposed. You didn’t even try to argue, accepting his tongue wrapping around yours and exploring your mouth while his dick churned up your insides. Full from top to bottom. Full of Alastor. Safe. Wanted. Needed. 

You pulled away when there was an overwhelming bone-deep sensation spilling through your hips and down your thighs. The muscles felt weak there, and you had an urge to runaway from it but Alastor held you still. 

A scream of ecstasy as both legs shook violently, you finally got your hands free orgasm but to your shock it didn’t stop. As it appeared to wane, it just started mounting again. By the third roll, Alastor came with a push so deep your chest fell over the arm of the sofa. If not for the hands bruising your hips, you would have fallen off entirely.

The ache in your stomach began immediately, you’d have thought someone had been punching you in the gut. Well, more literally than they had been. When you groaned and complained to Alastor about what he had done, he pulled you up by your waist.

You were drawn into him, back to his chest again with your body between those long legs. His hands came to your stomach. Alastor massaged deep circles into your abdomen. 

“Does that help?” His high voice lowered, husky and kind into your ear. You nodded, the pressure relieved the discomfort. 

You wondered if he was used to taller demons than your shorter heavenly form, or perhaps he wasn’t used to anyone at all. Maybe sinners had more room than you did. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Believe it or not,” probably not, “I’m never trying to hurt you.”

Was it terrible you actually did believe him? Yes he was a serial killer, and considered one of the most cruel overlords in recent memory. But he was always gentle when his hands were on you. Flits of memories of him washing your feet came back to you. 

“I know perhaps,” his hands kept moving, your back already stuck to his with well earned sweat, “I have at times been easily incensed.”

You nodded quickly.

“But, It’s just,” you heard him swallow hard, “ah I absolutely hate this,” He whispered it to himself. “I’m just scared you’ll leave before I’ve managed to convince you how much happier I can make you here.”

It’s not that it was funny, necessarily, but the very idea hell could be happier than Heaven was laughable. It was Heaven. It was made to be happy.  It existed purely to please. 

The smile faded from your face. Well, for the winners. It was made to please the winners. It wasn’t made for you, but you still got much enjoyment. You had…sex. Great sex. Not held aloft in a radio tower great, but…You always came. Everyone did. Wasn’t that the point of it?

Wasn’t that the point?

What was the point?

 A warm and lonely bed is better than an empty one alone. So.

Well, your bed was always warm and never lonely in hell now that you’d been “moved”.

You had… Hobbies. You liked swimming. 

Okay well the hotel had a pool. And yes, if you weren’t running off to earth on command you’d have more energy for hobbies.

What were you thinking about this for again?

You gathered the scraps of your relevant thoughts, “Happiness isn’t being confined to a hotel, Alastor.”

“As soon as you show me you won’t leave me, I won’t care where you go. As long as you’re safe.” One of his hands left your stomach to stroke your cheek, “I’m just waiting for you to realize what I already know.”

If Alastor were to ease his grip on you, could you enjoy yourself? Well, more than you did. But it was more than that, you had to admit you hated the idea of losing, of just running away. “I don’t like giving up.” 

His laugh was quiet but it rocked you as his chest moved. “Darling they threw you to hell and told you you’re not allowed to leave unless you do homework. Giving up what? Being a servant to heaven?”

If he had said it a couple weeks prior, you would have left the room indignant. But now, settled against his hot skin and being so softly touched, it sounded like tough love.

“I don’t belong here though.” You were talking to yourself. So many excuses.

His arms wrapped around your chest to hug you into him, “You belong wherever I am.” His cheek pressed against yours, “I won’t let you go.”

A threat. A threat you leaned into and warmed yourself with. A threat a quiet part of you hoped he kept his word on.

You were getting too comfortable. Every morning you woke up to Alastor curled into your body, holding you tightly to him and you found yourself smiling before your consciousness clicked on. At some point in the last week he grabbed your chin and kissed you good night and suddenly every time he left your side you allowed a kiss to your cheek before he parted. What was worse was how you’d talk in bed about your recent reads and what happened the few hours you weren’t with each other. 

The thing that made you realize you were getting honestly too deep was when you went to go to bed early and actually took the elevator past your floor, walked all the way to his station and told him good night. You’d made it to his chair and were leaning down for your kiss when your face fell flat. 

He asked what was wrong but you shook your head. A poorly faked smile offered to him.

You sat in your bed. His bed. Your bed?

You sat in bed and wondered how to press forward. Two months, nearly, you’d been in hell. At this rate surely heaven had made a replacement. If you could make it back quickly you could still keep your place.

A decision was made, you’d never confronted Alastor head on. You had misunderstood his illusion of you. But maybe if you just forced it into his thick skull he’d been controlled and puppeted by an arrow, not his free will, he would abandon it to save his pride. 

Knees to your chest, why were you crying again? Did you want to go home?

No, you wanted to curl into his stupid fucking lap and listen to him hum his stupid old, forgotten songs. You wanted to dance while Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. You wanted to feel loved.

But you weren’t made to want things. And Alastor didn’t love you.

Okay, one more night to enjoy yourself before you pissed him off so much he kicked you out of his bed. Or took such a turn into obsession he never let you leave the room again, allowing you to shirk responsibility for not returning to heaven.

When you turned the handle there was resistance, the door pushing in. 

“Alastor? Done already?” He’d seemed busy earlier.

He closed the door and locked it. Oh. A blush. The sound of a locking door had come to mean certain things to you.

“You seemed bothered.” His thumb wiped where your tears had already dried, “What ever is the problem? Did someone upset you? Some neck I should wring?” You shook your head no. His other hand came to join in  holding your face, those goddamned red eyes melting you to nothing, “Some limbs I should snap?” He took a step toward you and you took two back, hands holding his wrists. Another no. “Or some cheeks I should kiss?”

Stop crying.

An eager nod. “Don’t cry, my love.” Soft lips catching your tears, thin fingers wiping them away. He kept walking forward and you kept walking back until your legs hit the bed. 

One more night, just in case. In case he forfeits the mania.

You kissed his neck, startling him. “Rare form. Did you need some more intimate attention, darling?” You tried to avoid initiating, never knowing what he wanted or when, never wanting to enjoy his touch too much. “I could indulge you.”

What you wanted was to be reduced so thoroughly to just a physical creature by way of pleasure that your mind disconnected from your brain. Fucked dumb, as people said. Alastor wouldn’t know what that meant but you were confident he’d enjoy sussing out the finer details of the meaning if it meant your full surrender.

You bit down on his neck, getting you pushed onto the bed in return. “I need overindulgence. I don’t wanna feel anything tonight but you.” You should practice your manners, for heaven's sake. “Please.”

There it was again. That look that turned your bones to jelly and your brain to cotton; that downcast half lidded stare as he towered over you that promised to devour you whole. His hand pulled at his bow tie and loosened his collar, knees on the bed as his legs spread you open at the thighs.

 “Good girl.”

No punishment or inspiration, just that mental numbness that turned off all your worries. We’re you making stupid faces? We’re your sounds embarrassing? Didn’t matter. You didn’t care. You clung to his body like you’d fall apart without his skin on yours. Because you would, in some fashion. 

Every gap between your bodies felt like room for doubt. So you filled them with flesh and sighs and moans. 

With his height difference you were smothered by him when in traditional heaven-approved missionary, but you liked lying on top. Your head only made it to his chest when your hips were positioned above his cock. You could go slack and let him move you on and off himself. You had been lying when you said you preferred to not move or make noise, but you’d learned he got harder and more feral when you let him manipulate your body any way he pleased. 

He smelled like sweat and leather, probably from the chairs in the lobby. No one sweats in heaven, this seemed like a mistake now. You’d have to be sure to not wash your clothes after you left hell, or else you’d forget his scent.

After finishing, he was surprised to find you still clinging to his torso, arms under his armpits and hooked onto his shoulders. He offered to pull out and let you lie down but you just held on tighter in response. He glanced around the room, soft light and softer music on the radio. Your quiver and bow rested against the armoire, practically dusty. He asked if you were alright, a hand coming to your back with large claws gently scratching.

“Yeah I will be.” you lifted your head, waiting.

Both of his eyebrows rose, unsure what you were waiting on.

Complete surrender. “Good night kiss.” You had to stretch to meet his lips before settling back into his chest, “okay bore me to sleep with your day, sinner.” He gladly did, you falling asleep yet again to the sound of his slow heartbeat and the rumble of his words.

You awoke nauseous, already knowing your day was going to fucking suck and it’d be your own fault. The idea of approaching Alastor and initiating the conversation felt impossible, your feet became stone when you thought of it.

The coward’s option. Wait for time alone and then pace the library until he came to find you.

After an hour or so he did, smile brightening as he entered. “Should I summon the bar?”

You shook your head no, struggling to speak. He sat in his chair, book still on the small side table.

Heart pounding, you considered doing this another day or week or maybe year but knew you’d already lost so much time. “Alastor, I need to talk to you about my task.”

He snapped the book shut, eyes not leaving his hands. “Oh?”

“I need to leave the hotel or at least need serious time alone with someone. I need to change someone’s heart on true love. I can’t go home—,” you were cut off, Alastor standing quickly.

“Home?”

“Alastor.” You stood your ground even as his spine stretched and antlers widened.

“Your home is wherever I am.” A pained smile now, something akin to hurt in his eyes that did damage to you too. “Ah. So last night— and people say I’m cruel.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!”

A snap, his anger and desperation eclipsing his pain, “Why don’t you ever listen-,”

Your turn to cut him off, “Because you’re under a spell! You act so fucking tough like you’re in control all the time. But you’re not! It’s just the effect of the arrow.”

He laughed, but you kept going, “Don’t act like you’re sooo strong you can fight the effects of my shot. You don’t fucking love me. Not really, not naturally. It was an accident. You’re just— it’s been made by me. I don’t want it. I want something real and true.”

“My feelings are true, just let me speak. I can make you understand if you’d just listen to me.” Pupils like pins, teeth somehow sharper.

“Alastor you can’t have true love. Nothing triggered by my arrows can ever be true.”

Another ring of laughter, “Tell me then how your true love is different than mine, Oh Wise Cupid.”

You huffed, “Don’t talk down to me, radio demon. True love means caring deeply for someone else that occupies your heart and mind-,” he opened his mouth, looking around the room for where you found the audacity but you snapped twice to get his attention back, “not just that! You put them first without fear because if they truly love you they would never take advantage of that. It’s trusting them with the most fragile parts of yourself. It's a best friend. Someone who makes you feel like a better version of you, makes you want to always be improving yourself.”

Alastor was still smug, staring at you from his unnervingly demonic height, “Lovely! Last question, expert, is true love ever one sided?”

You thought for a beat, “It can be.”

He hummed, body swiftly resuming his smaller but, again, still too tall scale, antlers remaining fierce as his sinister smile dropped to just a small upward turn of his lips. “I see. You’ve truly enlightened me. I believe you.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on you.

You rolled your eyes and licked your lips to go off when a portal opened beside you.

Heaven was just beyond the shining circle.

You looked from Alastor to the circular doorway, taking small steps towards it. Your hand pressed through, confusion wiping your own smugness off your face.

Alastor began a mocking slow clap. “I’ve been convinced. Happy now? Task complete.”

“But- the love Mania causes…It clouds the mind, you can’t even process the idea of true love properly.” You searched the floor for some clarity.

His hands stopped, eyebrows meeting his bangs as a laugh that started typically but quickly morphed into maniacal filled the room. You just kept pushing your hand in and out of the portal. Alastor finally quieted, antlers fully drawn back into little prongs. He stared at you. A shiver as his smile reached his ears. That look again. You took a deep breath, ready to be eaten.

“Your little arrow didn’t pierce me, you glorious fool. It literally fell into my pocket. I was never under the effects of your magic. I said that many times.” He straightened out his suit jacket,  “Very plainly, might I add. You just never listened to me. So sure you knew better than I did.”

You sputtered, too many thoughts trying to express themselves, “Why did you act like that then?!”

“Because I wanted you. Something something first sight, as I recall the adage goes.” He crossed his arms and looked at his claws, “Perhaps my love happens to be manic by default. I am a murderous overlord, darling.”

All the energy left your body, shoulders relaxing. “Oh.” 

“So, here I am,” he opened his arms, “trusting you to not hurt me any further today. Does that fall into your narrow view of true love?”

A good question. You shifted your weight onto your other foot, looking back at heaven. You could see the shining gates.

He sighed and brought his arms down, “I can’t promise how long I’ll let you stand there and look at anything other than me.”

A warning.

A deep breath, another shift onto your other foot again as you shook the anxiety out of your hands before finally making eye contact with him, “Well, eldritch horror, prove it.”

You heard the door lock from across the room. 

You decided heaven could wait. It took about two days before they seemed to notice you hadn’t entered the portal, which closed on its own some time between Alastor pushing you onto the floor and you begging him for more. Luckily St. Peter wasn’t privy to your escapades.

It was a fact Sera was aware you had completed your task, because a knock came to the library door on that second day after you did so. Entering without waiting for a reply, which was brave, Lucifer and his hat popped into the room.

“Heeeey giiiirl. I got a message from heaven asking what’s the hold up, worried you were incapacitated.”

From your seat in Alastor’s lap you lowered your book, “How nice of them to suddenly care about my well-being.” You brought the book back up, “Little late.”

He nodded, “Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah I can understand that. Sooo,” his fingers tapped the door, “What should I reply with?”

Alastor turned the page and hummed a reply, “Finders Keepers.”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

@sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

[imsilay]

I need to get this out my system or else I'mma lose my shit... What about in Mania pt 3( don't know if you'll have one) but what about König hair pulling y/n? Him just cooing as she's babbling shit and overstimulated. (+Slide some belt there if you wanna) huehuehuehue. You get the rest! Imma go to Mars and come back after you post it! Love youn babyeee!! Ajsbsjamajshjssh

people are so wei- jk we’re equally horny i love you anon.

MANIA pt.3

obsessive love; very possessive and often jealous.

word count: 1.3k

read first chapter here

summary: König doesn’t wants you to leave him, even for a second. he finds excuses and makes it your problem so he could fuck you until you’re too sore to leave again. (he could destroy me and i would thank him fr.)

mdni NSFW! +18, cw: hurt/comfort, possessiveness, size k!nk, fem!reader, obsessive König, dom!König, manhandling, hair pulling, overstimulation.

art cr: @kinky-thirsty-reader

His hips slammed to yours as he grabbed your thighs and gave them a squeeze, his big palms causing your sore muscles to ache. But he made it up to you by kissing your g-spot repeatedly. It made your eyes roll back and pussy clench around him. He groaned and pushed your thighs to your chest, still thrusting into you without mercy. “You take me so well, Hase.” his eyes were focused on how your greedy cunt sucked him in. “Ich schwöre bei Gott, you love my cock more than you love me, Hase” with a light chuckle continued to watch it, it amused him that how your tight cunt get used to his shape. He used you at his heart content, your little body was like a putty in his hands. He would mold you into the perfect toy for him. Needy and dependent. Maybe then you wouldn’t have a thought about leaving him.

“Kö-König!” was all you could push out from your lips when he didn’t even consider slowing down. Your legs aching and causing so much pain but the pleasure he fucked into you was all you could think and feel. His hips slamming to yours and making the bed shake with the force. “Ja, Hase?” The way you slurred his name was turning him on even more. You were a moaning mess, mind too foggy to remember what you wanted to say. “Faster.” you gripped the bed sheets for dear life, squirming and sobbing while he pounded into you hard. “Du wirst mein Tod sein.” (You will be the death of me.) he mumbled before pounding into you harder and making you gasp. When you said his name, he thought you would beg him to slow down but it was his mistake to forget how needy you already are. Your walls clenched around him and your hips desperately rolling to meet his, that’s when he knew you’re close.

He didn’t stop or slow down. Continued to thrust into you as he tilted his head back and let out a low groan. Your moans and sobs was mixed with his low curses and groans. “I know you’re close Hase. Cum for me.” he looked back to your face. His heart dropped at the sight. Your addicting lips parted and face twisted with pure bliss as you cum on his cock without needing any further stimulation. “Scheiße.” he dug his fingers into your thighs as he couldn’t contain himself and cum deep inside you. “Oh my-“ you whimpered when you felt him unexpectedly fill you up with his hot semen. He pulled his cock out and released your thighs. His hands immediately find your face and pulled you up to meet his lips halfway. The kiss was rough like he was mad at you for making him cum. “You should be punished for the expression you made when you cum.” he whispered after the kiss and bit down your lower lip. You whined and shook your head in protest when he let go of your swollen lip, unable to form a proper sentence as you felt the arousal dripping from your cunt to your thighs.

His hands found your clit and rubbed with enough pressure to make you squirm again. “Wrong answer, Hase. Try again.” he whispered, his eyes filled with nothing but pure lust and want to possess you. Your hips twitched and rolled foward to his fingers, chasing the any friction you could get. “So verdammt süß.” he gritted his teeth to stop himself from devouring you whole. He teased your folds with his fingers, fingering you with the both of yours cum still inside you. You shuddered and grabbed his forearm when he hit that sweet spot. “Fuck.” you cried and threw your head back, another orgasm building within you.

He felt your walls tightened around his fingers. He smirked and tilted his head to the side. “Again? Already, Hase?” he purred then curled his fingers so he hit that spot he already knows by heart, his other hand on your waist to keep you still. He knew all your weak spots and the places that made you squirm. You were already overwhelmed with the all pleasure he was giving to you. “gonna… please-“ you moaned as your eyes rolled back to your skull and legs trembled. “Braves Mädchen.” he cooed when you cum again, harder than before. You collapsed back to bed, legs still trembling and aching. He watched the mess he made out of you with a satisfied smile. His hungry gaze locked with your pleading one, his fingers leaving your cunt and finding his mouth to lick his fingers clean. The sight of him tasting your arousal made your stomach do a flip, earning a needy whine. “I’m not done, Hase.” he whispered to your ear, his voice stained with want. The want to take you over and over, the want to make you his, the want to make you stay with him. He took of his mask. As much as he wanted to fuck you with his mask on, he couldn’t resist your trembling lips. His lips found yours in a passionate make out session. His fingers traced back to your breasts kneading and making you squirm again.

He didn’t even let you recover or take a break. After leaving you breathless with his lips he flipped you over and grabbed your hips to hold you up. Your breath hitched when he pressed his rock hard cock against your ass. You tried to escape his grasp but it just earned a low growl from him. “Where do you think you’re going?” He hissed and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking it back and looking into your eyes. Your blood ran cold when you saw his icy-blue eyes, and you realised that you had managed to anger him. “Du wirst mich nicht verlassen.” (You’re not leaving me.) he murmured as he pressed your face to the mattress and lifted your ass up. Positioning you into however he wanted to take you. Ass up, back arched perfectly and chest pressed against the mattress. He continued to murmur the same thing repeatedly as he stretched you open with his thick cock and pounded into you rapidly. You were already a blabbering mess, begging and sobbing as he fucked the breath out of your lungs. Your legs trembled and gave up eventually, the only thing holding you up was his hand on your lower belly. He adjusted you again with his hand on your belly and carried you without effort. With his hand pressing on your belly he could feel himself moving inside you. With each thrust of his pushed you closer to edge, milking him as you cum again. He suck in a sharp breath and grabbed your hair firmer, yet he didn’t cum until you begged him and promised to not leave. Your cries increased by the time he cum inside you filling you up with his hot seeds all again. He gave you last a few slow thrusts overstimulating further both of you with his each thrust.

He pulled out and then flipped you over onto your back again. “Aww mein kleiner Hase… Don’t cry. You did so good f’me.” he kissed your cheeks and wiped the tears. “You know i love you so much.” he soothed you with pulling you onto his firm chest and massaging your sore legs. As your sobs came to a stop. He then prepared a warm tub for the both of you, filling it with your favourite essences. Carefully placing you into the water then pulled you into his lap in the tub, his body taking up the majority of the space. He began to massage your thighs as your head dropped onto his shoulder. "I'm not going to leave you." you whispered by the end of the day. He pulled you even tighter into his embrace and planted kisses on your neck. “I know.” he mumbled softly.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked it <3

a/n: also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

AND HUGE THANKS TO @lunanilla FOR HELPING ME WITH GERMAN <3

[tomboymikayla]

What sucks about the Sonic franchise is that people only seem to like it when the franchise isn't being itself

Sonic Colors is liked by non Sonic Fans because it's kiddy and lighthearted and not dark and edgy like the 2000s games, which is considered cringe to them and the only time people "like" the 2000s games is when they're talking about those obnoxious Snapcube dubs which they's been spamming for 4 years now

New Fans also praise the current voice cast, which sucks because a majority them don't fit the characters

New Fans also praise how Ian Flynn writes the characters, which also sucks because Flynn's version of the characters don't act like the actual Sonic Characters, (Sonic considering himself as a hero, Tails being Jimmy Neutron, Amy chooses to keep her feelings for Sonic secret and having Tarot Cards be her whole personality, Shadow being an edgy dick, etc) but the New Fans keep insisting that the new versions are better

Also to this day, misconceptions about the franchise and 90s boomers who refuse to let go of the US Lore still persist:

His name is Eggman, not Robotnik

Sonic lives on Earth, not Mobius

Sonic is not obsessed with Chili Dogs

Amy is not a stalker

Sonic has never fucking said "Gotta Go Fast"

Shadow is not an edgelord

People thinking the cartoons and movies are canon

People thinking the Snapcube Dub is canon

Majority of the characters are teens (For some reason people think every Sonic character is a grown adult, even characters like Charmy and Tails)

Also a lot of people seem to forget that the franchise was niche/hated during the 2010s, people didn't give a flying fuck about Sonic and even if they did, they brought it up just to shit on it, it was especially worse when Forces and the Ugly Sonic design came out, everything about Sonic in the 2010s was mocking it, nonstop memes and people saying the franchise only works in 2D (What's worse is that Sonic Mania indirectly proved them right)/was never good, etc

Sonic hate is a lot less common nowadays due to the movies, (mocking Sonic 06 is still brought up to this day tho), however i feel like most of it is people pretending to like Sonic, majority of Sonic praise nowadays comes from the Movies or Frontiers's vocal tracks (because of Kellen Quinn), it also goes back to my previous point with people liking the mischaracterised versions of the characters better

The big two Sonic content coming out this year are Sonic x Shadow Generations and Sonic Movie 3, which has a lot of people hyped because of Shadow the Hedgehog, but it also goes back to my previous point of people pretending to like Sonic, Shadow was heavily disliked by critics and the general audience for being a "edgelord" and looking like a Deviantart OC, so why are people switching up now?

Also from a majority of reactions I've seen, they'll say shit like "Shadow has always been my favorite character" but they don't even know his backstory and when see Black Doom, Maria or Gerald, they go "Who is this!?" (Or make an obnoxious Snapcube joke), I've even seen people ask for Silver, who is a character who was more hated than Shadow and know less about, I doubt they even know he's from the future

All this shit makes me scared that by the time both of these come out, that I'm gonna have to gatekeep the fuck out of this franchise, which is something don't wanna have to do, I just wanna live in a world where the franchise isn't a laughing stock and people actually the franchise unironically

[love-byers]

Hi! Not gonna lie I was a bit disappointed that you believe the birthday gate stuff... The Duffers wouldn't have admitted to have made a mistake if that were the case. And most of all, it would've come up in volume 2! Now if something happens in S5 it would just feel like they came up with it during the 3 years between S4 and S5. They can say it was planned all they want, people would call bullshit, and rightfully so. I'm sorry I can not believe how anyone can think birthday gate could be a real thing. Not to mention it doesn't even make any sense. Please bylers let's just accept the Duffers made a mistake!!

i disagree with everything you said

1. "the duffers wouldn't have admitted to have made a mistake if that were the case"

they lied.

the duffers are sneaky snakes who want us to analyze and always be looking for little details. they have literally said there are no coincidences in the show.

so yes, i completely believe that they would go out of their way to lie in order to save the surprise for s5. i mean actually think about it, if it really was just a mistake, why would they not just fix it?? they have the full power to just do a little voiceover edit and boom, problem solved. they explained exactly how they'd do it. but they didn't. 2 years have passed and they still haven't changed it when that little tweak would literally solve all their problems if it really was a mistake.

they lied. they're liars.

2. "it would've come up in vol 2"

since when does every single problem have to be solved in one season?? do you know what show you're watching??

there are hints and foreshadowing all over the seasons. vecna is foreshadowed in s1 ep1 when will's door was opened with telekinesis, and we had no idea he existed until 6 years and 3 seasons later.

in s1 they don't fully explain how will was communicating with joyce. but after s4 everything clicks into place.

they show us that will can clearly hear her and is finding a way to make the lights light up. then in ep 8 they show joyce and hopper making the christmas lights light up as they walk through the byers upside down house. jonathan sees this and asks if it's joyce, and joyce hears him.

that isn't addressed AT ALL in s2 or s3. it is fully explained and explored in s4, when nancy steve eddie and robin are stuck in the upside down. they fully show us how it works and acknowledge that it was how will communicated with joyce.

the creators knew exactly how the light upside down stuff worked the entire show. but it wasn't time for it to be explained just yet. it was meant to come up later on. it's a masterful way to write a story with longevity.

stranger things teaches you to never just write something off. everything is important. don't let it go just because it hasn't been fully explained. there will be payoff.

3. "now if it comes up in s5 it would just feel like they came up with it the 3 years between s4 and s5. people would call bullshit."

respectfully i think you're projecting a bit.

the average viewer who does not spend their time on forums is not going to think that whatsoever. the average viewer is going to think "wait what?!", go back and watch s4 ep 2, and think "holy shit it was planned all along that's so cool!"

like that's such a dumb way of thinking. you have to be a master level hater to see a well written plot twist and think "they just did that to cover their asses" like that's some next level hating

and i guarantee you once s5 comes out the duffers will be like "yeah of course we had to lie you guys were too close to figuring it out!"

david harbour has talked about how hard it was for him to flat out lie to people about hopper being dead. it's really not that crazy to think they lied

4. "it doesn't even make any sense"

....it does.

i don't know how you could think it doesn't make sense

rink o mania day was march 22nd. will's birthday. they have not changed his birthday. his official canonical birthday is still march 22nd.

but no one mentions it. even will doesn't seem to know it's his birthday.

s4 is all about memories and trauma and feeling isolated from others. we also literally learn there is a powerful monster man who can read minds and enter other people's memories, just like el can. so i don't see how it's so outlandish to think there's some memory fuckery going on.

of course we can't explain exactly why or how, because it hasn't been adressed yet. you have to wait for the pay off.

5. "just accept the duffers made a mistake"

i would accept that they made a mistake if they actually fixed the mistake LIKE THEY SAID THEY WOULD. they said "we are going to edit the episode and change it to say may 22nd" and then DIDNT. EVER.

and not only that, they wished him happy birthday on march 22nd 2 years in a row. noah schnapp posted a bts photo on march 22nd 2024 with the caption "Do you know what March 22nd is? It's your birthday. - Joyce Byers"

they are saying "yes it's still his birthday so get hyped for s5 where it'll be addressed" every way they can without spelling it out for you.

i really don't know what more you need

[nerdflayer]

This is my opinion on why I believe the GA doesn’t see Byler.

Before I begin, I just want to say I’ve been a Byler fan since Season 1. Season 2 cemented my feelings about them. Season 3 crushed my soul. And season 4 at first watch made me feel pessimistic but eventually optimistic. As a gay boy myself I can’t help but see the whole show through Will eyes (he is me) and can’t help but fall in love with Mike. I mean he did so much for Will in the beginning, how could you not love Mike for that.

The relationship between the boys really does take a turn for the worse coming off S2 into S3 because Mikes character kind of does a 180 in terms of Bylers relationship.

Anyway. Talking about S4, we see A LOT of the CA plot line from Wills perspective. And I think this is key to people not seeing Byler. Wills feelings are made very clear. He’s depressed, traumatized, he doesn’t fit in, he is well aware of his homosexuality which brings stress and suffering and the tremendous disappointment that he has in Mikes character, yet he can’t help but love regardless. With that said, Wills POV is bleak, and coming off the back of S3 it’s easier and, I would say necessary, for his character to believe that Mike doesn’t love him. The pain of letting yourself believe they do love you only to be rejected, is very hurtful. And I don’t think that boy can handle more pain so it’s safer for him to deny the hope. Will even says “I’m not going to fall in love.”

Mikes actions also play into this. Will does not see Mikes love for him. He can’t hug him, is dismissive, he argues and blames Will at Rink O Mania, he wrote to El but didn’t seam to call Will, makes the whole trip about El, isn’t attentive to Will at all, and even when Mike apologizes for obsessing over El- every one of their conversations is still about her. Again this is Wills POV. I will say Mike does give him hints and mix messages for romantics feelings but like I said, how is Will suppose to trust? Is Will just reading into the flirting because he wants it so badly? It needs to be direct otherwise Will and the GA won’t see it or believe it.

Obviously there are a lot of hints for Byler, and I believe 100% it will happen. I’m choosing to trust the hope even though Will isn’t able to.

My point is I think Wills painful POV cannot be underestimated even if straight viewers dont like Will you can’t deny how powerful it is. Will literally helped Mike say I love you to El because he doesn’t have hope for himself. I think straight viewers use his hopeless as evidence for why Mike and El will end up together. It’s interesting that you hate Will but Will plays a role in convincing you of Milevens endgame. What they don’t understand, other than all the Byler evidence, is that Will is wrong! Mike does have romantic feelings for him and Mike will get there! Because Mike doesn’t need to find himself he needs to return to the person he’s always been. He showed us who he is and it’s the person he was in S1 & S2 and we see it when he’s with Will!

[emblazons]

so I swore I was not going to start speculating off of set images, but given the one's we've gotten of Dustin so far, I cannot help myself (plus it's fun). Still: none of the theories I've seen so far make as much sense to me as this being tied to Dustin's trauma and him having a Vecna Vision/Flashback, which becomes clearer the more you put the details revealed in the images into the context we've been given by S4 + The Duffers.

First, the images I'm referencing (TW: IMAGE SPOILERS):

Separately, these things (the basketball players, Dustin's hellfire fit being the same at both the grave and school + him wearing Eddie's rings + Mike's hair & attire) all feel a bit disparate...until you remember the things both Dustin is trying to cope with (Eddie's death + feeling like an outsider) and the Duffers have said re: Eddie and his effect on the characters (listen if you can, its only 3 min). Why?

Well, because we know for a fact that 1) Dustin and Mike were the ones who felt most aligned with Eddie given their being bullied—

—even though we spent all of S4 building the bond between Dustin and Eddie in particular, because Mike was in California with Will.

Similarly (and while I know it's not primary canon), we get this context from Lucas in Lucas on the Line, which corroborates Dustin's comment about Lucas "making all his sports friends" and feeling deeply betrayed by that fact—

—and even stuff about Mike's appearance "not changing" (pre-hellfire, in the moments he's still in S3/regressive conformist territory +not embracing himself)....something that Eddie talks about in S4 when he comments on the look Mike had when he met him.

(I've also already commented on that Mike's shirt looks a lot like the one El wears post Rink-O-Mania in S4—which plays a lot into the idea of Mike giving El a shirt that represents conformity to him (just like her being his girlfriend does, given he cannot be himself in front of her at all in S4).

Combining all of these things though—Dustin being the only one who is in the Hellfire shirt (while all the other extras look a very "S1 good suburban kid" I/ first day of school), Mike showing up (also looking like his 'conformist' self in contrast), Basketball players being on the scene (the people Dustin felt stole Lucas from him)...combined with him in the same outfit at the grave of the person he felt defended him from those losses and challenges in high school?

It's giving Dustin's grief / worst thoughts thrown back at him 100%.

Given that Eddie, who he lost in an extremely traumatic fashion is the one who said forced conformity (which Mike is showing up dressed as alongside Lucas's basketball friends) killed the kids—

—and now they are facing off with Vecna (and Henry by extension, whose says shit like THIS) on top of asking people to "join him" in his displeasure with the world when he 'takes their souls?'

On top of the fact that we KNOW for a fact there is time fuckery coming for us...and it's likely enough that it's 'now 'canonically 1986 (or near it), which is reminiscent of this moment (likely remembered and traumatizing for Dustin specifically)?

Yeah. Flashback / lead up into Vecna torture is exactly what it gives to me—the things causing the event / the moments that lead into the torture. Especially knowing the scenes shot first (aka now) are generally more SFX complex because they take the most time.

bonus: @magentamee also brought up some great points on this theory here!

bonus bonus: I wrote something on Dustin and standing apart from relationship conformity as early as S3 here and wrote up the relationship he has with nonconformity today, which I think plays into his feelings of alienation / what Vecna might pull him apart from his friends by showing him.

[glassesfreekjr]

Since the first do-over somehow sounded even more like ass, I remastered/redid the whole track now that I have more experience.

Picture this as the OST for a surprise XTRA WAVE during the next Big Run. Even better if this "King Salmonid" isn't announced anywhere beforehand.

Imagine, if you will, that distorted victory jingle plays to signify a King Salmonid, but nothing happens. All eight(?!) players Super Jump back to their starting locations and Mr. Grizz pipes in to express his confusion. Then he notices... no, no, he definitely sent out a four-man squad! Why are there more of you? How long have these conspicuous individuals in the same uniform been trying to blend in amogus? Are those Grizzco weapons?!

Then without a word, the interlopers all open fire at once. Cue the music.

Although the firefight would break out as the music kicks off, the 100-sec Xtra Wave would only officially start at 0:22 — when the Grizzco helicopter is blasted out of the sky with a Trizooka, careening into the ocean in a catastrophic, firey wreck. Mr. Grizz lets out a long, garbled string of curses and hails the emergency speedboat he prepared in advance to come pick you up. But will it make it to your squad in time? Here's hoping.

---

Ditching the odd time signatures and overdriven timpanis in favor of breakcore drum loops is kinda like sanitizing what made the music ω-3 (the band for Salmon Run) special and shoving what's left in a place where it don't belong — which is similar to my interpretation of what "salmonlings" would be like. Literal fish out of water.

Salminid culture is heavily tied to the belief in the circle of life (via being cooked alive). It's why they're so willing to zerg rush players during Salmon Runs. So imagine being torn away from said cycle, altered so irrevocably that you barely recognize yourself. My intent was to capture that feeling of horrid mania, and the music I sampled from/covered lended itself well to that, I think.

I've also found a good in-universe performer at last: DJ Unregistered Hypercam 3 (by @teethflavoured on Tumblr), a retired Mudmouth turned solo artist for whom I instantly fell head-over-heels.

(sample source list and an ultra-rad visualizer can be found on my YouTube)

[thankskenpenders]

MORE behind the scenes Sonic info and other tidbits from the BumbleKast as I continue to get caught up. These range from September 2022 to early December. (This means there are spoilers for Frontiers in here.)

They're doing episodes even more often now, so I've got a lot to catch up on and I'm sure most of y'all do too!

1. The IDW comics are, in fact, canon to the games now. Ian was a little coy when first asked about it, saying he "would not argue against it" if people said the IDW comics were canon to the games now. "I have made it clear that the comics follow the lead of the games, so… as long as there's no contradictions anywhere, we're good." So, yeah, come on. The comics are canon.

2. Ian apparently pitched another idea for incorporating Sticks into the IDW series last year that was once again shot down, although he says this only makes him want to dig his heels in and try harder. (I'm assuming most of you are already aware of her shout out in Frontiers, confirming she's out there, somewhere...)

3. If Surge was a streamer, Ian thinks she would just grief people on Fortnite

4. On the October 7th, 2022 show, Ian says there is a behind-the-scenes answer for how the depiction of Silver's future in '06 can fit together with Rivals and Rush... but he can't talk about it right now.

It's hard to convey his tone through text, so just imagine he's saying all this with a big, defeated shrug:

"Here's the thing. Working on something else, I actually did get a straight answer, and it was... frustratingly simple. And, it's like, 'That works. [sigh] Okay!' No, I can't get into it - that's all private work stuff - but maybe it'll come to light eventually. But... there is an answer. And it works. And I kinda feel dumb for not thinking of it."

I honestly have no idea what this could be if it's something Ian hadn't considered, because he has talked about popular theories and readings before, such as the reading that Blaze was transported to the Sol Dimension at the end of '06. Maybe we'll hear about it in the comics, since Silver and Blaze are both back right now, or maybe they'll be the subject of a TailsTube episode.

5. Froggy is not sentient in any way he really is just a frog

6. Unrelated to Sonic, Ian was asked "who is best pony" and he said Fluttershy. My longest yeah boy ever dot jpeg

7. With Surge and Kit originally being pitched as purely synthetic beings before Sega suggested they be cyborgs instead, Ian says they would've struggled with whether or not they're even real, as opposed to the end product where they struggle with not knowing who they were before Starline modified them

8. When the female cast of Archie Sonic stopped getting drawn so busty all the time that was, in fact, a very specific editorial mandate from someone at Archie. Sega, on the other hand, has never cared.

9. Now that we're back to Classic and Modern being part of one nebulous timeline and the divide being more of a branding thing, Ian explicitly confirmed that the Classic-themed IDW Sonic comics are set in the past of the mainline IDW Sonic comics. They're set sometime after the events of Mania, and before all the Modern stuff. Just don't think too hard about it

But hey! If it's any consolation, this now means all the Classic characters like Mighty, Nack, and Honey are out there off-screen in the world of the regular comics, even if the casts are remaining separate for branding reasons for now. It also means Shadow is out there being held in a pod in a maximum security off-shore military prison during the events of all the lighthearted Classic comics lmao

10. Ian reiterates yet again that he's still pushing to try and get the Freedom Fighters back in some capacity where he can (as are others). He also says that he's pushing for them to return as a group rather than requesting individual members because he believes that's the best shot at getting any of them through Sega's approval process.

(I can't remember when the last time this came up was, but Ian has also implied that he thinks their best shot is to return as Classic characters since their one game appearance is Spinball.)

11. Ian outright confirms that the forward-looking character arcs in Frontiers are reflective of what he would like to see out of the main cast moving forward in the games. Not surprising since that's, like... the whole point of those arcs! But nice that he wants it to only be the beginning.

Ian does also say, however, that he's not guaranteed to return as the writer for future games since he's still a freelancer, but to editorialize here, I don't see why they wouldn't want him back for the next project.

12. On the subject of Amy's characterization in Frontiers, Ian personally pins her general seriousness mostly on the fact that she's the companion for the first island, where the mysterious and somber tone Sega wanted for the story is being established and Sonic is still trying to figure out what to do. He says that she'd probably have been more bubbly if she was interacting with Sonic on the second or third island, after he starts to get his bearings. I hoped this was the reason why she felt a little dry compared to Knuckles and Tails, so it's nice to hear this isn't the new direction for Amy or anything.

13. While "officially" Sage's name is just an anagram of Sega and a reference to her wisdom, Ian seems to be cheekily implying that it's also a nod to the annual Sonic Amateur Games Expo. Hell yeah.

14. When asked to clear up some Frontiers lore from the Egg Memos, Ian explicitly confirmed that some of the Ancients left the Starfall Islands and went on to devolve into the Chao as we know them today over the course of tens of thousands of years. He says, however, that this doesn't mean that Ancients and Chao are literally the same species, comparing it to the difference between humans and australopithecus. But yes, they're related.

[doctordeathawaits]

any tips for transBPD? :3

I shall try my very very best < 3

TRANS - BPD ...

Emotional highs / Mania ; you do not feel happy , you are EUPHORIC . You are at the top of the world , you feel so high that you feel unstoppable ! You talk fast , you feel creativity all over you , you feel like you are the happiest person alive !

With highs comes lows - bpd depression . You feel unmotivated , nothing matters anymore , you feel like you can't do ANYTHING .

Hypomania - hypomania is the short period of irritability , feeling elated , more twitchy with your motor , frantic speech .

All of these moods change quick - they linger and it feels like your emotions are a rollercoaster .

Not liking mood switches on you - people with bpd have said that feeling even the smallest of switch in their friends mood can ruin their day , so noticing these small switches and having them revolve in your head for the rest of the day / week .

Self sabotaging - a lot of people with bpd complain about always self sabotaging when they do not want to , mainly out of fear . Self sabotaging your own relationships or events can help .

I hope these have helped even just a little bit < 3 Happy transitioning !

[eddiemunsonw]

Paint me red.

PART 1

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're one of Vickie's best friends. Her girlfriend, Robin, is in need of a distraction for her best friend, Steve Harrington, who you vaguely remember from school. Which is where you come in.

CW / Disclaimer: A bunch of cute stuff, just a nice feel good fic about our dear boy Steve.

Author’s note: It was time to write about Steve Harrington, so here it is. Four parts, can find them both on here and on my ao3: eddiemunsons. Enjoy!

Words: (of current chapter) 1432 / (complete fic) 13059

Thursday afternoon usually wasn’t one of the busiest times of the coffeeshop you worked at. Three regulars sat dispersed throughout the room. The tall auburn haired man working at the window always brought a stack of papers and seemed to be doing some type of research on a topic you had zero knowledge about. You had glanced over his shoulder before and didn’t even have a clue how you’d go about pronouncing it, so you never bothered to ask either. The other regular was a younger guy around your age. He had been two years below you at Hawkins High. Most of the time he brought a book, or he just listened to his Walkman as he scribbled in his sketchbook. The last regular sat at the bar, looking at your pretty foam creation of a cat that you had just given her. However, she wasn’t just a regular. She was also your friend, Vickie.

“Ohh that’s adorable! You’re getting so good at this, honestly,” Vickie exclaimed as she carefully turned the cup around on the saucer. Her eyes wandered back to you and you could tell she was dying to tell you something. She smiled awkwardly, which was a telltale sign of something peculiar spilling from her mouth soon.

“Okay, cute foam kitten aside, I have a favor to ask. I think. Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I’m doing you a favor, depending how you look at it? Or, well…”

“Just, tell me, please?” you asked with an innocent smile that hid your impatience only a little bit. Vickie conceded and smiled.

“It’s kind of a long process thing, maybe. Again, it depends on—”

“Vic, spit it out already oh my god.” At this point you were starting to worry that she was about to ask you for something horrible.

“I need you to come with me to DGMG,” she glanced away shortly, only to meet your eyes again with a pleading look. Somehow it seemed important to her but you couldn’t help but frown, confused at what she was asking you.

“What?”

“Dark Glow Mania Games. See why I used an abbreviation? It’s a horrible name. It’s that glow in the dark game center, you know? The one I told you Robin started working at recently? Actually, ‘recently’ being two months ago. I really should’ve met up with you sooner, it’s been so long!” Vickie said apologetically. Her red hair bounced as she shook her head to emphasize how disappointed she was in herself.

“You were busy with girlfriend duties… and perks,” you shrugged, a smile laced on your lips. “It’s not like I’m obliged to know your girlfriend’s workplace within an estimated amount of time, Vic.”

“I know but still. I always ramble on on the phone and yet I forgot to mention it until… last week?” She seemed to wreck her brain over the details that were not at all important to you, as you were still curious why she even brought it all up in the first place.

“Something like that. Anyway, why is going to DGMG with you doing you a favor?”

Vickie smiled awkwardly and reluctantly sipped from her coffee, the foam cat slowly dissolving. After cleaning the foam off her upper lip with the tip of her tongue, she sighed.

“Because… that’s not all there’s to it.” When she didn’t elaborate you gave her a pointed look, urging her to go on.

“Right. Uhm, do you remember Steve Harrington?”

Do you remember Steve Harrington? Of course you remember Steve Harrington. The popular kid they called King Steve, Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington or Mr. Harringtongue, which had apparently to do with how skilled he was in pleasuring a lady. It was hard to not know about a guy like that. You wondered what happened to him. You had only transferred to Hawkins High in your third year, meaning you had only shared one year of hell with the guy because after that one, he graduated. You could vaguely recall having English together once and seeing him in the cafeteria every now and then but that was about it.

“Uh, yeah?”

“He works there too,” Vickie said, as if that would explain everything all of a sudden. Only barely, you managed to not roll your eyes at her.

“Okay?”

“According to Robin he needs more people his age around him. A girlfriend would be nice too, or a boyfriend if he’s into that but we only know total dweebs so that’s not going to work in our current plan. Not saying you should be his girlfriend or anything! But… Robin thought it might be nice since you’re cool, and he’s cool, and that way he won’t always stick out like a sore thumb when I hang out with her either,” Vickie watched your frown deepen as she spoke and she let out a nervous giggle, your gaze always being somewhat intimidating to her even though she knew you wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“You don’t even have to do anything! I mean, just, stick around, maybe say hi but that’s all. Maybe it’s enough to restart his heart and make more room for people other than Robin and a handful of others that aren’t around all that much.”

A quick break to serve a customer gave you some time to let her words sink in. Once you sent them on your way with a frappuccino and a matcha latte, you still hadn’t come up with an answer though.

“Sorry but, why does Steve Harrington need help with getting himself a friend or a girlfriend or whatever else? Wasn’t he like this popular dude? Handsome to the masses?”

Vickie gave you a side eye.

“You say that as if you’re not part of the masses. Steve is attractive, it’s a fact written in the stars, undeniable unless you’re blind.”

“If you weren’t with Robin I would’ve told you to hook up with him yourself,” you tell her flatly after a dramatic eye roll. “But you’re proving my point as to how ridiculous your request is.”

“I don’t know! Ask Robin! It was her idea after all, I’m just the messenger.”

“What’s in it for me?” you quipped, knowing that you would go with her regardless, but you couldn’t help but like a little bargaining.

“Free glow in the dark mini golf. Perks of the girlfriend. If you’re nice, I’ll pay for our drinks too,” Vickie promised with the sweetest, angelic smile that matched her pleading blue eyes.

“Now why didn’t you start with that, silly? I’m in.”

For a reason you didn’t know other than that Vickie had very convincing puppy dog eyes, you agreed to go. Only after you said it, you realized that you actually weren’t that much of a social creature at all and wondered if you had just agreed to the most awkward evening of your life. Vickie assured you that Robin and Steve would be working, so there wouldn’t be that much interaction anyway. It was a nice first step, she had said, giving away that this wasn’t just going to be a one time thing. Oh dear. All in all you could do with a fun evening if you were honest and you decided you would just ignore the whole plan. After all, Vic had said you didn’t have to do anything apart from the bare minimum which consisted of saying hi and looking at him while you did that, which shouldn’t be that hard.

Once Vickie left to meet up with Robin, you were left alone with your thoughts which drifted back to Steve Harrington all too easily. You tried to dig into your memories, to see what you really remembered of him yourself rather than hearsay. The latter went many ways in your last year. While some still called him the King, others said that he had become a total loser working dumb jobs and hanging out with ten year olds. You had expected him to get into some fancy school, with the power his last name seemed to hold. It was all just guessing work. In the end you knew very little about Steve Harrington. It had been three years since you graduated and you had been blissfully unaware of the town’s gossip since then. You would be lying if you said you weren’t the tiniest bit curious about him though. After all, Vickie had been right. He was a treat to look at. And after spending the rest of your afternoon thinking about a guy you hadn’t thought of in years, you found yourself strangely excited for Saturday.

Next part

[alpaca-clouds]

People get the Witch Hunts all wrong

It is history-rant time. And today let me rant about one topic that just really gets me frothing at the mouth, because people will just mix up so many fucking things in this. And yeah, this is gonna be a long one. So strap in.

When it comes to the witch hunts, people are gonna have all sorts of ideas, that are just wrong. And today I wanna go and debunk some of them.

The myths for today:

The witch hunts were a medieval phenomenon.

The Spanish Inquisition was about witch hunts.

The witch hunts were about pegan religions.

Witches were all burned on the stake.

Witch hunts were all about women.

Actually, witch hunts established modern rights for defending yourself against accusations and were therefore good. (Yes. I heard that one.)

Myth 1: The Witch Hunts were a medieval thing.

I honestly do not know how often I have seen this one before. Like so many books and other media just keep harping on about this one. About the witch hunts happening in the middle ages. Which is just not true.

The middle ages are usually said to be 500 till 1500, though the most precide way to define them would be to say they lasted from 476 (the fall of the Roman Empire) till about the midth of the 15th century.

Meanwhile we also can argue exactly when the first witch was persecuted as such. Because there were people kinda persecuted for witchcraft, but actually executed for something else. But all in all the witch hunts started in the midth of the 15th century, aka, when the middle ages ended.

From there on there were witch hunts happening again and again all over Europe and later the US. It was not a constant thing that would happen every other week, but rather it would usually just hit an area like almost a collective mania. Then within a short time several people would be accused of witchcraft (often accusing each other) of which some would be executed. Then there would not be such a thing for several decades.

The reason, why witch hunts were not a thing of the middle ages, was that the church basically was not allowed to persecute crimes. And as the general society kinda saw magic as an in general more neutral thing, there were laws against black magic, but usually the punishment against those was not death.

And this changed in the 15th century, with the church getting more legal power.

Myth 2: The Spanish Inquisition was a witch hunt.

One thing that I do not quite get how it happened... A lot of people just claim that the Spanish Inquisition was a witch hunt... Which it was not.

There really is not much to say here. The Spanish Inquisition happened after the Reconquista war, aka after the Christians reclaimed the Iberian peninsula from the Muslims, who were ruling Iberia for a long while. And because the Christians at the time were a lot worse when it came to living peacefully with other religions than the Muslims of the time, they went out and wanted to force the Muslims (and the Jews who had fled to Iberia because of persecution in the Christian areas of Europe) to either convert to Christianity - or be killed.

Yes, that kinda turned into another craze that ended with a ton more people dead in the end, as after a while people were hunted down for all sorts of things... It really was mostly about hunting down Muslims and Jews.

Myth 3: The witch hunts were all about pegan religions

With this myth I do know where it comes from. It comes from the neopagans, who usually have found their home with pegan religion within the last two generations, but love to claim that their family (especially their matrilinear line) totally always has been pegan, but they had to hide this because of the witch hunts. To be perfectly frank: This is mostly something that comes from white cis abled women, who desperately want to feel persecuted in some way.

But, yeah... I am not saying that there were no pegans killed during the witch hunts. Though of course the idea of keeping "pegans" as a different thing from Christians is kinda... complicated. Because for the most part in Europe it was not that Christianity totally extinguished the indigenous religions of whatever culture it took over, but rather supplemented it. This is super clear in Scotland and Ireland, but also in parts of Scandinavia.

A lot of those original religions have been lost, yeah. But... It was not quite how people imagine it to have gone when it comes to the conversion of people.

But in fact, the time this happened - the conversion of people towards Christianity and the pegan hunts that came with it - happened mostly between the 4th and the 8th century, so in the late Roman and early medieval period. And it was not what had happened in the witch trials.

The witch trials mostly went back to a very misogynist book of the "Malleus Maleficarum" - and to the church needing a good reason to get more power. It started out as: "Women are very corruptable. Satan has in fact corrupted so many women. Here is what you can do to find out whether a woman is a witch!" And from there it went to like: "Satan does want to corrupt us all! Everyone is corrupted by Satan!"

And a lot of it ended up being also directed against women, who held knowledge. Which was mostly connected to the entire push for more stricter patriarchal powers to come in. So, for example herbalists, who often taught their daughters, were often targeted, because they held knowledge and through that knowledge power. But also women in other positions of power.

And then... just everyone who was an inconvenience...

And disabled people...

Myth 4: All the witches were burned on the stake.

Another thing that keeps getting iterated in media a lot is the idea of witches burning on the stake. Because... I guess it is a pretty big image as an influence.

But... actually a lot of witches were simply hanged or beheaded. It kinda depended on the area and whoever was responsible for the witch hunts there. France in general was big on the burnings. But large parts of England were bigger on the hanging. Here in Germany some were burned and beheaded. And some were hanged first with their bodies then burned.

In some areas it shifted over time.

Nothing much more to say about this one. If you wanna write about some witch hunts, you should look up how people were killed in the version of witch hunts were you are from.

Myth 5: Witch Hunts only targeted women

As I said: Yes, the witch hunts definitely started with misogyny and was partly aimed at removing women from positions of influence and power. But they did not only target women. In fact in the end it was about equal with whom they targeted. In the end it was also highly dependend on the area. But... yeah. It is more complicated.

A just little fun fact: In Lichtenstein most of the "witches" killed were in fact men, because someone figured out that the entire "yeah, actually, we own the stuff the witch had owned" was way more profitable if you went for the men, who usually owned more things than women. Because patriarchy.

Another group that definitely was also targeted where people who were disabled or neurodiverse. Because they were often seens as being posessed by demons and such, due to people not understanding what was happening. This was especially true for people with turettes.

So, yeah. It started with misogyny and targeting women. But over the about 300 years during which most witch hunts happened, it shifted and spread from there.

Myth 6: The witch hunts gave us proper legal protocol

Okay, another one... This one I heard first from the father of my ex boyfriend, as he defended the bad things that had happened in the name of the church. But I have heard it several times since, so I think it is worth adressing.

The idea goes like this: "Well, actually during the witch hunts they introduced those neat legal concepts. Like, you could not be tortured more than three times, you were allowed to have a defendend and you could not be charged with the same crime twice! So it totally brought us modern legal practice!" Which... like...

*deep sigh* Honestly, that this has to be said. But... No.

First of all: Actually those things predate the witch hunts. And in fact torture was a thing that was not permitted as a form of interrogation in many areas where it became permitted during the witch hunts. Not saying it was not used as such still, just that it technically was not permitted. Just as the people just didn't give a flying fuck during the witch hunts on the legal limitations they had on the torture. People would often be tortured a) more than three times, b) for longer than allowed and c) with the kind of permanent injury that the law did not in fact allow. Because people did not care in the end. Same with the other things. And if you got a defendend, that defendend was not always on your side.

And, again, all those concepts predate the witch hunts. They were not universal, no. But they were not invented during the witch hunts.

So... Christ. If you really want to defend the senseless killing of people based on a made-up crime... Then at least think of some actual facts to defend it, rather than making shit up.

(Also I think this myth comes from history channel.)

So, yeah... That are some myths about the witch hunts that I have encountered several times. Are there some I missed?

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

kdnfb's Ten Years of Fancition Mania

Featuring: Lay Me Down, Let Me Dream

Summary: Katniss and Peeta share a bond so strong, even death cannot defy it. When tragedy threatens to separate them forever, Peeta risks his soul to save Katniss from an eternity of despair. Inspired by the book, What Dreams May Come by Richard Matheson and the movie by the same name, starring Robin Williams, Cuba Gooding Jr. and Annabella Sciorra. Written for Prompts in Panem, Real or Not Real: Everlark Dreamscape Week, Spring 2015

Rating: M for Major Character Deaths, Minor Character Deaths, Suicide, Afterlife, Heaven, Hell, Reincarnation (Literally Everybody Dies)...

A/N: First of all, I co-wrote this story with titaniasfic what feels like forever and an age ago. Second of all, we mean those warning tags. This story is not for the faint of heart. That being said, Lay Me Down, Let Me Dream holds a special place in my heart as the first multichapter story I finished, and a lot of that is due to my co-author. We both brought our betas at the time on board to help with the project, edited each other's work and found a kind of synergy in creation that I can't even imagine recreating, and we pushed each other to get through to the end, which wasn't an easy feat.

Somewhere in the middle of writing LMD, I was in an awful car wreck, which... if you know the plot, you know why that's ironic and a little disturbing. My car was totaled, the entire front end scattered in pieces across the road, and I spent a couple weeks high on pain meds and muscle relaxers. My back was left in bad shape, until a different injury years later got me into physical therapy and they somehow managed to deal with the damage from both. And after the accident, there were still about three chapters to write (I think. I can't be sure. See the note about being high on pain meds and muscle relaxers).

Still, even with that, and everything else the two of us had going on in life, somehow we planned, wrote, and finished the entire story in roughly a month. Five chapters in five days, one on the makeup day, and the final chapter shortly thereafter. AND I still to this day think this is some of my strongest Everlark writing.

Banner at the top was made for Lay Me Down, Let Me Dream by the insanely talented and lovely @akai-echo. And yes, LMD is a soulmates au. So if you're brave enough to try it...

Lay Me Down, Let Me Dream on AO3

<3 kdnfb

[concussed-to-pieces]

Wolves At The Door; Part Three

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: "No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer."

A/N: FIGHT SCENE FIGHT SCENE! I'd like to thank you all for reading thus far, you're The Best <3 I will be taking a small break after this, due to a vacation. I'll see you all on the 11th! Enjoy!

Tag List: @spoopyredacted @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @stargazerofgoldenwords @a-smol-witch @baby-lisuga @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @thirstworldproblemss @karlskitten @imthegreenfairy86 @nitrogennightmare @chunnies

Prelude

Part One

Part Two

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, gratuitous violence and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

"You will regret this." The Duke warned him, his smile vanishing at Heisenberg's demand.

"I don't care," Karl insisted, his fingers still twisted into the larger man's shirt collar. "I can't keep going on like this, not without knowing if I'm-" broken a danger bad person "--if I'm someone who would…do something I shouldn't."

The merchant, for whatever reason, insisted on continuing, "This will not endear you to them, my Lord."

"I don't know why the hell you think I'm doing this for them!" Heisenberg snapped angrily. "I'm tired of not fucking knowing what I'm–I just feel like I'm always waiting, anticipating something awful. I've had enough."

A large finger landed between his brows, the Duke bearing an uncharacteristically serious expression. "I am sorry for this, Lord Heisenberg."

Darkness overcame Karl then, as well as a chill like the sun had been suddenly switched off.

…

"Mr. Duke! It's good to see you. I wasn't sure if you were alright, it's been so long since you've come by!" You exclaimed, still wiping your hands dry with an old towel as you made your way to the fenceline. "You'll have to fill me in."

The Duke, for his part, looked unchanged. A bit more sweaty perhaps, but that could be chalked up to the rigors of just existing in such a unique body. You saw his eyes dart to your houseguest and you got the sudden impression that you may have interrupted something. The large man staunchly denied this when you asked though, his laugh just as jovial as always. Maybe you had misinterpreted the situation?

If looks could kill, however, it seemed the Duke would be quite done for. Karl was glaring holes through the merchant, striking green eyes narrowed to angry slits. That look alone could make anyone nervous!

"I noticed my talismans have gone missing, my dear. Has something happened?" The Duke's inquiry was smooth, almost bland. 

"They just started crumbling one day. I guess the elements finally got to them?" 

The Duke's expression shifted strangely and once again his eyes darted to Heisenberg. But all he said was, "how curious," then started rummaging in the drawers that framed his corpulent form. 

"I'm sorry, I don't have-"

"I told you," the Duke interrupted, his smile a bit sharper, "it's all part of our first-class customer service!" He gestured vaguely with one large hand, placing the small bundles of herbs and flowers down on his thigh. "If nothing else, take these as my thanks for nursing the Lord back to health. He certainly seems a changed man from when we last met." You heard Karl growl, muttering something under his breath that made the Duke chuckle coldly. "Now now, let's not say things we don't mean. I'm being sincere! I am glad you and the Lord Heisenberg are on such good terms. Why, he's almost tame."

…

There had been a great shattering, a terrible rending in his mind the likes of which he had never experienced before. The stress and mania that had driven him doggedly onward collapsed in upon itself after Ethan's final assault, as though the strain of both his transformation and the fight was too much for his body and mind to handle. Karl could just barely recall feeling himself fraying, his soul being torn apart at the seams like he was an ugly garment in the hands of the world's most negligent tailor.

Miranda would love that. Let that bitch pick out every stitch so she could make me into something useful, something controllable.

Maybe it was that bitterness that kept him breathing. Bitter spite and hatred, a parasitic leech just as much as the creature that throbbed uneasily in his gut. Cadou, finally a name for the feeling, the tension, the parasite that clung to his broken body and demanded him to rise, demanded him to fight and kill anew to keep it alive. Karl was exactly what he had feared and suspected all along: a freak.

While the Duke sat there complacent, chuckling, Heisenberg could only seethe internally. The obese merchant finally leaned forward, his smile distinctly oily. "I'd advise the two of you to turn in early for the evening. A storm is coming."

"Thanks for the tip." Heisenberg said through gritted teeth.

"Do you have anything new to show me?" The excitement in your voice threw Karl off a bit, as did the Duke's smirking reply of, "Naturally, my dear!"

Apparently it had been a busy few months for the merchant, because he immediately started pulling out (allegedly) new trinkets to show you. Each item he proudly displayed, however, set Heisenberg more and more on edge. Crystalline objects, fragile and frail, covered in sharp edges and scenting the air lightly with decay. Something about them had that wrongness, that Uncanny Valley sheen, as well as a hideous familiarity. 

Finally Karl said faintly, "I'm going to head back in." His head was swimming, mind struggling to sort through lifetimes of memories and it felt like his entire body was throbbing with his pulse. "You two have fun catching up."

"But my Lord-" the Duke protested, extending the protective talismans to Karl with a guileless expression. "-I had hoped you would hang these along the fenceline for me. I would do it myself, of course, but it's been so long since I've had a customer to show my wares." His eyes twinkled with the silent joke; he knew damn well that touching those things was bad news for Karl. Go on, big man, the Duke's smug gaze seemed to say, go on and reveal yourself.

Karl's glare reached a nuclear temperature, his mood rapidly swinging from discomfort to infuriation at being toyed with. This colossal fuck knew exactly what he was capable of! As usual, the Duke's audacity was exclusively outweighed by his mass.

But you were smiling, you looked so excited to see what else the Duke would show you.

Damn it all to hell.

Karl dug around in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out his gloves and gracelessly yanking them on before holding out a hand to take the charms. 

The Duke's smile never wavered once.

…

"It is odd, seeing the change in him." The Duke commented, turning a human torso that may have been carved from quartz this way and that to show you how the light caught it. "You certainly did more than your share of work, my dear."

"I don't understand." You replied, a little confused. "It hasn't been too hard. Only issue was keeping bread in the house."

"Can we claim his essence restored by mere gluten?" The Duke fixed you with a look that made you uncomfortable, his normally good-natured expression gone serious. "I doubt that, but I am open to breakthroughs in science."

"Do you mean I helped raise his spirits or something?" When the obese man shook his head, you shrugged. "I haven't really done much except put that gunk that you gave me onto his wounds and endured his company. If anything he's been helping me out! Got to get a few things done that I couldn't manage myself." 

"Very curious," the Duke mused, his attention seeming to have moved on to the odd combination of gears and crystals that he was currently showing you. It looked almost like a half-metal heart encased in white crystal and you marveled at the craftsmanship of it. "Lord Heisenberg has allowed himself to be domesticated. The Lady Dimitrescu would have a fit if she were still around."

His words didn't register until a moment later, making your brow furrow. Unfortunately the large merchant didn't appear to be in an expansive mood, whatever further queries you had being easily deflected or outright ignored.

…

Miranda. 

Karl tried to focus on something aside from the fact that his entire left hand was going numb. 

The constant fury he felt at that self-styled mother's attempted manipulation of him would do, so he began to reminisce. Though his mind was not entirely whole, Heisenberg could still remember his disdain for the haughty woman. She had always looked at him with such blatant calculation in her eyes; he had to commend her for the consistency of that gaze. Karl wondered sometimes if she practiced it in front of the mirror. How his ‘siblings’ had never seen her manipulation…

"Sore loser," his own voice echoed back to him through his memories and he scoffed, yanking the knot tight on the twine. Another charm secure. The little talismans were made of monkshood and nondescript twigs of some evergreen plant, all braided together with a few stalks of what seemed to be wheat and then fashioned into a tidy wreath. The numbness in his hand vanished once he released the charm, now replaced by an unpleasant burning. He could see spidery black tendrils making their way up his arm from beneath the glove, following the path of his veins to spread that burning sensation. Aside from that, though, Karl felt nothing. Was his fury truly slow to come, or did he just not care anymore? 

He slowed to a halt, resting his weight on the fence as he stared down at it. He almost wanted to will himself to be upset, get worked up, something for the sake of familiarity. This calm…acceptance, it didn't seem like him. The Duke had said Miranda was 'taken care of'. No doubt Ethan had fistfought the feathery bitch himself.

Dimitrescu, then, Karl decided, she could always piss me off, that colossal cunt. The anger was so faint it was barely annoyance. The weird little doll? Indifference. Moreau. Pity. 

Pity?! 

Was his throat closing up?! He was either flashing over or having some sort of allergic reaction to the talismans, he reasoned desperately. That was the only explanation for his strange response. Heisenberg pulled away from the fence, taking a few healthy steps backwards. He abruptly felt the hairs raise on the back of his neck and the Lord reached out to grab the maul, realizing at that moment that he had left it by the cart. Come on!

A body crashed into his back and Karl almost toppled, only just managing to brace himself on a fencepost. Sharp teeth grazed his arm, the combined scent of wet dog and iron nearly strong enough to make Heisenberg retch. Without a second thought Karl yanked the charm off the post and jammed his entire fist into the thing's mouth, hearing it start to choke and gag right next to his ear. 

The maul arrived, flying through the air like the weapon of some old Norse god. Karl seized it with his free hand, swinging it around to pulverize the…lycan, lycan, shit, he had forgotten. Its skull caved beneath the maul's blunted edge and Heisenberg quickly shoved the body to the side as it twitched its last.

There were more of them. A lot more of them, a pack of mangled humanoids spilling out from beneath the trees to yowl and bay at him. The body at his feet began to crystallize, the familiar scent of death wafting up to greet him like an old friend. Memories started to bleed in at the sides of his vision: dark, wispy vignettes of the man he was, the monster he really was.

I think bare minimum I've done some real bad things. 

He had been so desperate for reassurance without even knowing why, groping unlit through the halls of his memories as a stranger. It had been better for a while, what was shoved into the back of his mind to let him play fucking pretend at being human, at this new life with you.

Just like Miranda with her fake little family.

Heisenberg drew himself up to his full height, narrowing his eyes and roaring "shut your fucking holes!", immensely gratified when the cacophony immediately quieted. 

Unfortunately, the uneasy silence was then broken by a scream. A scream of his name. And the lycans, obviously sensing Karl's momentary distraction, peeled away to head for the source of the noise.

…

"Karl!" You cried, the terrible din you had heard seconds before still ringing in your ears.

"Oh dear," the Duke remarked blithely, "I may have been too late." He shrugged after a moment, passing you another charm. "Well, I hurried as best as I could." The massive merchant then clicked his tongue once and the seemingly too-small horse began to pull the cart down the road once more. "Good luck, my dear. Remember what I said about the weather!" He called with a wave.

"You've gotta' be kidding me!" You yelled after him incredulously, the talisman clutched tightly in your grasp. All you heard in reply was faint chuckling. You gritted your teeth, turning on your heel. "Karl!" You shouted again, starting across the yard. You could hear muffled yowling coming from behind the cabin, out past the back fenceline, so with your heart in your throat you carried onward. You hoped and prayed it was just a bobcat that Karl had spooked, you're overreacting, everything is fine. You did make a brief pit stop to pick up your kindling knife from the basket on the porch, staunchly refusing to think about what you could possibly need it for. 

Upon turning the corner of the house, however, you came face to face with some…thing, some awful thing with sharp teeth and a hunched humanoid body. You froze and so did it, before it bared its filthy, blackened maw and snarled at you. 

Oh, it's going to kill me. The thought was so certain it almost surprised you. Really, what else could happen? Fuck, it's going to kill me. You backed away, holding the knife in front of you in a desperate bid to keep the creature at bay. For some reason it actually seemed to be working, the weird wolf-man snapping its teeth at the air in evident frustration. Well, it was either that or the Duke's charm that you had slipped around your wrist, but you weren't about to start questioning your luck.

A projectile whipped past your head from behind you, the mass of it disturbing the air enough to emit a faint whistle. It was the maul, its dull blade slamming into the face of the lycan and bending it nearly in half before it collapsed like a deflating balloon. 

"You stay the hell away from them, you mangy rat!" Karl spat, his gaze full of fury as he rounded the house coming from the other direction. It may not have been aimed at you, but his rage was still absolutely terrifying to witness. Your knees began to tremble, threatening to dump you onto the ground. Heisenberg suddenly seemed larger than life and extremely dangerous, voice booming and eyes ablaze with a malice you had never seen. The man tore the maul free with a sickening crunch, shaking some of the gore off. "You alright?"

You realized he was addressing you, still coming closer at that too-fast pace and you floundered to nod, opening your mouth to say something, yes I'm fine and don't come near me you're scaring me and what's going on. No words came out, though. When had he gotten so big? It was as though someone else had taken over his body, someone self-assured, someone…

Was this how he had been before?

Karl stopped dead two feet away, the man huffing out an irritated breath. "Oh, you've got one of those charms." He slung the maul over one shoulder, holding out a gloved hand. "Here, give it so I can close the loop on this fence." There were holes torn in the glove, ragged punctures. Bite marks.

"No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer." What did the Duke do to him? 

Karl's brow furrowed, but he soldered on, reasoning, "There's more of the freaks out there, sugar. We don't have the whole fence covered, I need that last charm." 

"Please, don't…look, I don't want to hurt you and you're scaring me right now." You got the feeling the blade you had was about as threatening as a butter knife to the large man, but you held firm. 

Cornered dogs bite. He had called you sugar, his voice low and urgent. Surely it was still him in there if he was using the silly pet name he had decided upon for you. This was all so confusing.

"The lycans don't give a shit about whether you're scared, sugar! They aren't gonna' wait around for us to sort things out, they're coming!" Heisenberg snapped roughly, glancing back over his shoulder. "Fuck's sake! I'm not at full bore and if something gets you because I'm out of it, I'd-" He hesitated, then huffed through gritted teeth instead of finishing the sentence. "Alright, fine, I'm not coming any closer, we'll just do it together then. Stay by me. Devil you know, right?" He instructed, that fierce gaze softening a bit. "Nothing will get you while I'm here."

What if you're the thing I'm worried about? you wondered privately. 

…

You were looking at him like he was a monster. You were looking at him like he was a horrible, terrible monster, that trashy Bowie knife you used to shave kindling chips clutched in your trembling hands, leveled at his gut. You're scaring me right now.

And Karl couldn't even deny it because holy shit he was, he had been, he might still be. Oh God, no wonder the Duke told him it was an awful idea. He wanted to throw up, but that may have been due to the closeness of the talisman. Anti-mold measures or just another silver bullet in the magazine?

At least now he knew, as crushing as that particular burden of knowledge was. At least he knew. It was oddly freeing to be that self-fulfilling prophecy for once. 

You ended up hovering nervously at his elbow, the proximity of the charm a constant, nagging throb at the apex of his spine. But he could keep track of you that way. 

"The lycans are wary." Karl informed you, not really sure why he did so. "They know who I am but they're not particularly good listeners." 

"Something you have in common." You retorted.

Karl shrugged, feeling his glove slide down his mangled fingers before he tugged it back into place. "I'd like to think I've improved." He glared at the forms he could see surging along the edges of the treeline, brandishing the maul in silent threat. Come on, you rabid little shits.

Not a single one left the safety of the woods, however they did keep up their noise. Howling and shrieking, the pack followed the two of you closely. They're waiting for us to place the last charm, Heisenberg realized, his brow furrowing. They'll strike then before we can get back inside the fenceline. 

"I need you to be ready to run once you tack down that last talisman." He muttered out the side of his mouth, relieved when you nodded. "Don't worry about me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

His laugh was coarse and joyless. He had been a naive idiot to think he even had a chance at any sort of quiet life, but he was more irritated with himself over being so affected by the disappointment. Now was not the time to wish to turn back the clock.

You broke away from him by running ahead, your attention clearly fixed on the section of fencing that lacked an oh-so-familiar charm. Karl watched you slide the talisman off your wrist, and at the same time he could see the pack of lycans appear to muster themselves for a full-scale assault. 

Heisenberg's eyes narrowed and the man bolted forward, sending the maul ahead of him as he went. "It needs to go on the outside of the fence! I'll cover you!" 

…

You yanked open the gate with single-minded intent, only to see the maul go sailing into the teeming swarm of bodies in front of you, Karl close behind announcing that he would 'cover you'. As you turned to watch him go, a massive lycan broke away from the edge of the pack and headed straight for you, fingers clawing at the dirt for traction.

You fumbled to attach the charm, hanging it on the rusted nail still in the fence post and then smashing the top of the nail with the butt of your knife to fold it over onto itself. Mission accomplished, you rushed to get back inside the safety of the fenceline, but it was too late. A paw-like hand caught your ankle, tripping you up and causing you to strike your head hard on the gate.

The world swam in front of your eyes, a combination of reflex tears and being dragged along the ground by your leg at a dizzying pace. You began to struggle, kicking desperately at the face of the creature in an effort to free yourself from its clutches. The lycan dropped your leg, choosing instead to bat aside the kicks you aimed at it and lunge for your face with a garbled howl.

You didn't even have the time to think and so you slammed your eyes shut, bracing the knife you still held against your body in an effort to at least wound the lycan. 

But it didn't come. The weight of the beast on your chest just…vanished, its roar choking off abruptly.

When you dared to open your eyes again, you were greeted by the sight of Karl holding up the lycan by its throat, the man clearly crushing its windpipe. Judging by the way it was thrashing, it didn't have much longer. Heisenberg didn't say a single word, the man simply grunting with effort as he gave the beast a final shake to cleanly snap its neck. He then threw the body down, broadening his stance and squaring his shoulders with a furious grin on his face.

"Fuck off!" He roared at the remaining pack, now significantly thinned and yelping. "You stay the hell away from here, or I'll wipe out every last one of you!" The maul flew through the air and he caught it, swinging it one-handed. It was dripping with some kind of black fluid. "You won't cross that fenceline!"

After a few moments of what seemed to be a snarling back-and-forth with Heisenberg and one another, the surviving creatures sulkily limped back into the woods in defeat. They left nothing behind but crystallized remains of their kin and, as rain slowly started to fall, even those began to dissolve into the soil. 

Karl closed the gate, the man slowly latching it with the worn wire twisted around the post.

You were still on the ground, the knife pressed to your chest as you shivered and tried to catch your breath. You couldn't recall another day in your life that you had been so certain about your own death. Somehow all you'd ended up with was a few scrapes on your shin and a tender spot on your head from the gate.

Heisenberg swayed, propping himself up on the fence with one elbow. The maul dropped from his grasp as he panted for air, the man's scarred complexion gone so pale it was nearly green. He tried to say something, but ended up dry heaving instead. After taking a few staggering steps back from the fence, he unceremoniously collapsed onto his side.

You only hesitated momentarily before you scrambled forward, your caution thrown to the wind. It was as if watching him fight had somehow removed whatever threat you had felt before, the notion wholly gone from your mind. It was oxymoronic, but firmly embedded that the two of you were on the same side. He saved you.

The man gazed dully upwards at you or someplace past your shoulder, his breathing coming in sharp, hitchy bursts. "Hurt-" he managed to wheeze, shaking the glove off of his hand to display blackened flesh radiating from a tearing bite wound on the palm. He then gave a thumbs up with the mangled appendage, choking out, "--be okay." 

You noticed blood darkening a section of his trousers by his hip and you jerked his tattered coat back, revealing several more wounds. At least two of the lycans had ripped into the back of his thigh, like they were trying to hamstring him. The purpling, bruised bites ran down his leg and there was even a large chunk missing from the top of his boot. You hissed in dismay at the whole scene, feeling nauseous and terrified.

"We need to get you out of the rain," you said finally, your stomach in knots. Karl waved you off while pffting out a breath but you essentially ignored him, pulling his good hand to haul his arm up over your shoulders. "C'mon, use whatever's left of your legs." 

The man coughed out a laugh at that, then obliged you to the best of his ability. It was a struggle, but the two of you managed to get him upright. All there was left was the slow trek back to the cabin, and Jesus was it slow. Karl could barely put one foot in front of the other, the man dragging his wounded leg and the maul behind him as he leaned on you, nevermind your own legs still shaking from adrenaline.

"Why did you do that?" You asked finally, blinking the rain out of your eyes. 

"Whuh."

"You know what." The only reply you got was silence, followed by a clumsy little pat on the cheek. You supposed you would have to ask later.

…

The fresh talismans gave Karl the sensation of being in the eye of a storm. A maelstrom of energy swirled around the fenceline in a disorienting spiral, but it couldn't touch him in here. The drunken stumbling was more due to the injuries he had sustained, his steps unsteady and head hanging. This weakness was incredible, it was so similar to how he had been right after he had lost to Ethan. Laying there in the dirt with the rain pouring down on him, uncertain of what had just happened, where he was, every shattered breath in his body seeming like it could be his last.

"Come, my Lord. You seem to have fallen ill." 

You had said that the Duke was the one who brought him to you for aid. He barely remembered bits and pieces of the ride, only roused to consciousness from pain when he was jostled. 

His forehead knocked into yours and he slurred out an apology, realizing you needed him to walk up the porch steps. And walk up them he did, his leg already feeling a little less terrible. Parasite perks, the alliteration tickling him far more than it ought to have. He actually managed to hobble through the doorway unassisted, performing an odd skipping hop to do so and dropping the maul beside the doorframe. 

Once inside you collapsed on the couch, your whole body trembling. "Thought I was gonna' die." You finally said. Heisenberg continued to hover awkwardly on one leg, shoring himself up by placing a hand onto one of the ceiling crossbeams as you seemed to gather your thoughts. "I mean I thought that was it, game over. Holy shit, that was terrifying." You looked up at him, radiating incredulity as you asked, "how the hell did you just handle them?"

Karl shrugged, a bad habit he felt he could attribute to you. "It's all I've known for most of my life." It was a garbage explanation for all its truth and he knew that, but you weren't exactly in a fantastic headspace at the moment. Neither was he for that matter, he was still weak and a little queasy. Better to let sleeping dogs lie, let you calm down and regain some peace of mind. Lycans were normal to him, sure, but you'd only seen them in half light and hadn't even seemed to believe they actually existed until today. 

You put your face in your hands, exhaling deeply. You then moved to rise but Karl halted you with a hand on your shoulder, and he was silently dismayed at the fact that he could still feel you shaking.

"Stay put." He tried to gentle his tone, make it a little less gruff. "That was a lot. Just rest. You want some water?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah." You caught his hand before he could turn away, seeming confused. "How are you even walking? Your leg was-" "Something in me is real invested in keeping my body in one piece." Karl patted your hand, attempting to smile and failing miserably. "Lemme' get you that drink."

Part Four

[electricopolis-net]

Life in Exile Pt. 3: Stormy Weather

The days turned into weeks, then months. Bob wasn't sure how long he would have to spend out in the relative wilderness of Junk Town, but some time after he arrived, the air began to warm and turn towards summer.

The passing year brought drastic changes the likes of which he'd never seen before. The seasons in Electricopolis were all very samey, with only the feel of the air and the changes of television and coffee shops indicating the passage of time. Out here, the earth grew softer, the air grew warmer, and the grass began to green while flowers sprung up from the earth.

The changing seasons also brought a familiar crackle in the air that made the hair on the back of Bob Sparker's neck stand on end. When he felt it, he raced back to his and Percy's ramshackle house on the beach almost as fast as the rumor that spread through the town: A storm is coming.

He'd been putting away bits of metal and discarded gadgets for just this occasion. He latched them together and wrapped them with wire, a collection of antennae from long-discarded radios and automobiles until he had a long, flexible rod that swayed and twanged in the air.

"What's that for?" Percy asked, but Bob only looked at him, grinned, and raced out into the plains that surrounded Junk Town. In the distance, thunder sounded.

Percy looked after him, and then his face paled. He closed the book he was reading, jumped to his feet and ran out after him.

It was exactly what he had thought. Bob Sparker had grabbed his homemade lightning rod and was waving it back and forth in the fields, cackling. "Come on!" he shouted, his lightning rod going thwipp in the air as he whipped it back and forth. "Is that the best you've got?"

Percy cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled towards him. "Bob!" he called out. "Stop this foolishness and come back inside!"

"I'll be in in a second!" Bob said, still waving the thin, flexible lightning rod in the air. It bounced off a nearby tree. The clouds began to darken. "Just give me a minute!"

Realistically, there wasn't much Percy could do. If he got close to Bob, there was a good chance the lightning could strike him too, and it would do far more damage to him than it would Bob. While he was contemplating this--

CRACK

--a bolt of lightning flashed in the air. There was a thundering BOOM with it, and Percy nearly flew backwards. Bob's laughter paused, his breath catching in his throat--and then he cackled louder than before. "Now that's more like it!" he hollered, jumping to his feet. "Again! Again!"

"You idiot," Percy grumbled. "Didn't you learn your lesson last time?" He cautiously drew closer to the laughing man and reached out a hand to grasp his shoulder. Then he pulled back, hissing in pain. "Ouch!"

"Sorry, boss," Bob laughed, and the familiar high-pitched mania was back in his voice once more. "I'm a real live wire! Didn't you know that? Hee hee hee!"

"You're a menace, is what you are," Percy growled. He took off his coat, turned it around, and used it as insulation while he grabbed the squirming Bob Sparker in both hands. "You're coming with me!"

---

Bob was a nightmare. Percy barely got him across the threshold of their house before he began thrashing and banging his heels against the floor. "Stop that!" Percy snapped. "You're going to bring the house down if you do that!"

"I don't care!" Bob howled. "I wouldn't have to live here if it weren't for you! I hate this place!" he wailed, sparks flying. "I hate everything here! I hope it burns!"

Percy gritted his teeth. "It will burn, if you're not careful," he admonished. "This place is nothing but wood and scrap metal, you idiot!" He reached out and grabbed a coil of rope from off of the floor. "Stay still!"

"No! You're not tying me up! Not like that no-good Dr. Flask!" Bob protested. He smacked Percy's hand away, then heaved him backwards until they were rolling around on the floor. He straddled Percy's hips and grabbed at the older man's shoulders, banging him backwards against the floor. "I won't let you, you hear me?"

Percy could barely think. Out of desperation, he pulled an arm back, cocked his fist and rammed it straight into the side of Bob's face. Bob yelped, falling back, and Percy scrambled to sit up.

Bob was dazed, but he was bristling all over, as if the electricity within him was causing his skin and clothes to shudder. He sat up, then lunged at Percy, who quickly wrestled him around and wrapped his arms around him from the back.

Bob's head was craned backwards, his body stiff and arched, his eyes wild. His teeth were gritted and his jaw was set so tight that Percy was afraid he would bite his own tongue. "Calm down," he insisted, wrapping his arms around Bob tightly. "Calm down!"

I need to get him to discharge, Percy thought. There's no good way to do that...there's nothing to ground him here. Except...

Percy placed his free hand on the ground, then tilted the other and shoved the side of it, the meaty side, into Bob's mouth. The uncontrollable man immediately latched on to it, bringing his teeth down so hard Percy had to fight not to let out a yelp. Immediately he felt the waves of electricity rip through his body, tensing his forearm up. He couldn't have pulled his hand away even if he wanted to. 

It felt relentless, but the entire ordeal likely only lasted for a couple seconds at most.  As Percy's vision blurred, he slowly slumped against Bob, groaning, a horrible buzzing still vibrating in his ears. His hand hurt--it was clearly bleeding, but it also burned, as if it had been held too close to a fire. His muscles slowly relaxed, aching, one by one. It was as if he was feeling all the pain in his body in bits and pieces, too much to process all at once.

Bob sat up against him, panting and heaving. Slowly his tightened jaw dislodged, letting Percy's hand fall, and Bob let out a hiss of pain as he rubbed at his chin. "Percy?" he croaked, his voice hoarse. "Mr. King?"

Percy said nothing. He only sighed, exhausted, his weight pressing down on Bob's back. The other man turned around, extricating himself from Percy's grip and grabbing his shoulders. "Mr. King?" he said again. "What happened?"

Percy would have laughed if he could have. Instead, he closed his eyes.

---

Percy woke up some time later. He expected to see the white walls of a hospital, but instead, to his immeasurable disappointment, what he saw was nothing but a ceiling of wood and tin. 

"Mr. King?" Bob Sparker leaned over him, craning forward. "Are...are you okay?"

Percy lifted his sore and aching hand. "I'm all right," he wheezed. He turned his hand back and forth, realizing it had been awkwardly bandaged with a cloth. "Did you do that?"

Bob nodded. "I know it isn't much. I'm--I'm sorry," he choked out. "I hurt you really bad, didn't I?"

"It's fine. I gave you quite the black eye, myself," he sighed. "I didn't have much of a choice."

"I didn't even notice." Bob gingerly touched the bruise around his eye. "Mr. King...Percy..."

"Yes?"

"Why'd you do that? I mean--let me shock you."

Percy thought. And after a moment, he responded: "It was the only way to make sure you'd be safe."

Bob collapsed on his chest. "You're just like her," he wailed. "Margaret did the same thing!"

Percy paused for a moment as Bob sniffled. Then, he raised a hand and put it on Bob's head, resting against his fine white hair. "Bob," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean...about everything that's happened. The city. You. Me. Margaret..." He let out a long, slow sigh. "I really made a mess of things, didn't I? All because I was too afraid to do the hard thing. The right thing."

"I...I messed up too." Bob sat up, still trying to stifle his sobs. "I'm sorry. I kept saying I didn't want to hurt people anymore, but look what's happened again." His voice betrayed his frustration. "I never wanted to hurt you. Not like this."

A long silence fell between them.

"Bob," Percy said hesitantly. "I know it's not my place to ask this, but..."

"What is it?"

Percy placed his wounded hand on Bob's shoulder. "Let's not fight anymore."

Bob grasped it in his own hands, as gently as he could. "Okay," he whispered, nodding. "I'd like that."

...They didn't notice it, but far away, through the woods and over the dusty valley beyond, the clouds above Electricopolis had begun, quietly and gradually, to disappear.

[tr1ckysp00k]

•Bob x nurse reader•

[warning: mentioning of scars, murder, cannibalism (I mean, this is bob), mental illness, mentioning of sharp objects (such as syringes, knives and such, ¿suggestive?]

Slightly proof read: I added more detail in certain bits of the story, and corrected any misspellings and missing words <3

Enjoy! <3

After years moving to various health schools, you’ve finally had became a licensed physician! You had a wonderful job, and big house, and lived in a amazing town!

Until. .

Your whole ship sank. You suddenly weren’t making enough money as you should, now this was a major problem considering you needed money to pay off EXPENSIVE bills, and nonetheless food, the very thing that keeps you alive.

All these problems were pulling you at the edge of a cliff, either continue down this path or. .

•

You decided to move to a smaller house in a less expensive town. You needed to be able to pay for food, and a home, so you choose to live in the cheapest town you could find.

This place was not all of a dump. .

Well it mostly was, but it couldn’t get worse. You unpacked your stuff from inside your shabby house, getting ready for a new day in a new place. You’ve already signed up for a job at the hospital. .which looked more like a asylum, but ANYWAYS.

It paid you well, you were able to keep afloat, there were only so many people working there. Your patients were well-behaved too! But then you hit another bump. .

Day 1

11:00 - AM

You walk into the hospital, which was cover in polar white paint, while the floor was decorated in lose, gray tiles. Something felt off once you stepped inside, like today was gonna be a bad day. .

Reluctantly you walked in, dusting off the stomach-churning feeling with a shake of your head. Once you clocked in, almost immediately, you were called into office. The head informed you that you were gonna be handling a ‘special case’ since you were ‘the only licensed nurse’.

•

To be honest, it’s mostly because you were the first person to arrive work.

They had specifically instructed you on what you’ll need to do and sent you off with a little warning.

‘We are not worried about you hurting him, but him hurting you. . If he does get a little ‘frisky’ we laid out some syringes filled with chloroform (aka the ‘knock out drug’)’

•

Now you were worried, a lot actually. ‘He will hurt me? Why would he do such a thing? Is he mad or something?’

You continuously fidgeted with your fingers as you slowly made your way to the pale white door. Your heart rate was at a faster pace, feeling as if it were trying to escape from your chest. You gulped as you placed you hand on the cold handle of the door, slowly opening it to reveal. .

•

Nothing. Nothing but a empty hospital bed, lied out equipment that rested on a tray, and documents. You hesitatingly walked in the room, heading for the documents. You opened the vanilla colored folder out of curiosity, reading through the fine printed lines of words.

‘Bob velseb, hmm what a peculiar name, where have I heard that before. .’

As you tried to flip over the sheet of paper, something felt out from between the pages.

“The devil has come out?” You said in a whisper.

BAM

The slam of the door echoed through your ears, swiftly turning, only to be knocked to the ground. You were face to face with a large man with pale white skin that was lathered in cuts and bullet holes from top to bottom. His smile only contained pure mania. He placed one of his massive arms beside the door blocking it so you couldn’t run off and within his other arm, his hand held a scalpel. He dazed amongst your terror filled eyes, you were basically paralyzed in fear. He pounced onto you, holding the small blade at your neck.

“Did you know. .~ the heart organ can survive 6 to 8 hours outside of the body?…” a chuckled followed his horrid fact.

“Did you know, breath mints are a thing?” You seethed, kicking in the base of his stomach. He slid amongst the smooth-like tiles, then charging at you. You ran in a panic, aiming to grab one of the syringes that were spread on the ground. You did manage to catch one, a small ‘yes’ of relief escaped your lips but, weren’t paying no attention to bob.

You grabbed you by your neck, pinning you to the dirty ground while holding the scalpel near rim of your stomach. Cyan ruled over his eyes with a sadistic passion. And drool ran over his lips, like a river. With swiftness you hammered the syringe into his arm. He hissed out of pain, and threw you aside. He ripped the shot out his skin, and attempted to make his way towards you before

Boom

Went the man, as he made contact with the ground. He was out cold. You had took it to your advantage. .

•

After you removed any bullets that were lodged in his stomach and back, and sewn him up, you decided to do some digging on him. You read through the paper that read ‘devil has come out’ the placed were you left off, and read through the lines.

‘This makes more sense now..’ you thought, as you furrowed brows at the man that was out cold on the small bed, his large stature took over.

‘How isn’t this guy dead?’ You questioned as You glared at the disc that held the blood covered bullets. Suddenly thoughts were put to a pause when you heard the man shuffling around the sheets. You held a vile close, just in case he tries any funny business.

He arose from his head-aching slumber. Holding his noggin in his hand, clearly a bit in pain from the ‘nap’ he took. It didn’t take long for him to notice you in the corner of the room, sitting in a slightly broken chair. He slowly got himself up, and attempted to get off the bed to come towards you, but you showed him the syringe just as a little warning. He plopped back down in bed, still making eye contact.

By this time he had both feet on the ground, but was still slouched in the bed. His fore arms rested atop his legs, as he let his arms carry his weight. His eye were trained onto you, the itching hunger to grab and bite was clear as day in his eyes. You made sure to show him that you were not afraid, staring right back into his crazed filled eyes.

•

All of a sudden someone opened the door, you made sure to keep bob in your vision no matter who it was.

“I say, y’all did well?” The man asked with a question in tone.

“He tried eating me, but I got done what needed to be done.” You say, with a expression that was as blank as a board.

“He… what?”

“Nothing, just keep a very close eye on him, while I get his lunch ready.” You got out the rusty chair, handing the doctor the vile.

Bob frowned a bit when he saw you leaving the room, something about you made him feel a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn’t hunger I’ll tell you that.

•

You had gotten the food prepped and ready for ‘your patient’. You wanted to hurry, you didn’t trust bob with your fellow employee. And if he did get hurt, you’d be responsible for the incident, since you left them both alone.

When you returned, everything seemed fine. They confirmed that bob didn’t try anything, and stayed from afar. You escorted them out the room, making sure they exited safe and sound, then faced the murderous cannibal. You dragged your feet as you made your way to give him his tray, which has plain food sitting in each category of the tray while a glass of fresh water sat at the edge of the plastic serving dish.

“Here, enjoy. Sicko. .” You trailed off at the end of your sentence, for only a mumble to be heard.

He cringed his nose in response, while slightly narrowing his his brows. He looked down at the food in disgust, complaining with a groan.

“This steak ain’t even seasoned. .”

He grumbled in irritation. Picking at the slab of dry meat with a plastic spork.

“Boo-hoo.” You giggled a bit, but immediately stopped when you saw the man frown in annoyance, a bit of sweat beading out your fore head as you reminded yourself you were in the same room with a serial killer.

You got everything done without a hassle. Including getting bob to eat, despite his pro-testing. What you really were ticked off about is that, you were STILL going to have to take care of him for a couple of weeks, until his injuries have recovered.

• What a way to star the day. . It’s not even past 12:00 yet.

• He’d request for you non-stop through out the day.

• Needed to get some paper work done? Forget it. You were on break? Time to get to working again, your patient is in need of you. You couldn’t even go to the bathroom without being bothered.

• bob had MADE sure it was only YOU coming to his rescue, attempting to bite, or tear into any other twat that tried laying a finger on him.

• when you did snapped at him for his constant, annoying request for you, he giggled it off saying it’s was cute seeing you this frustrated.

•

“There are other people here, why don’t you try asking assistance from them!?” *you’d hissed in irritation, frustration was visible*

“*he chuckles* aww, don’t

Be so mad. . Isn’t it yer job to help those in need, docs?” *he coos*

•

• but once the moon made its way up the night sky, you had given a sigh of relief. Finally able to rest, and someone else would have to put up with his bull-crap.

• When you were getting ready to go home, after a day of long work. You bid the tramp adieu, the frown he gave what up-most satisfying. Though, come tomorrow, you’ll have to go through this hell with him again. And he knew it.

•He just couldn’t wait.

Just until I figured out what happens in part 6 of just a bite.

Thank you for reading!